


Sunflower Seeds

by reillyblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha!Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Depression, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, IT'S REALLY DARK OK, M/M, Misogyny, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Castiel, Omega!Castiel, PTSD, Prostitution, Rape Culture, References to Abortion, References to Molestation, Sexism, Suicide Attempt, The rape isn't explicit, Victim Blaming, a/o/b, a/o/b dynamics, also major major sexism, basically anything that would set you off this story has it, damaged!cas, just mentioned, omega cas, omega!cas, pining!dean, possessive!dean, protective!Dean, rape is not between Dean and Cas, so you have been warned, that's basically the entire story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reillyblack/pseuds/reillyblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is ready to start over at college-- new city, new friends, new life-- but there are parts of himself that he can never truly hide from the world, and parts of his past he can't just forget. When he meets Dean Winchester he's forced to reevaluate his expectations for alphas and his long festering hatred of his omega status.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the tags and don't read this story if any of the tagged topics are triggering for you. 
> 
> (please just don't do it, this story will be graphic)

 

 

 

 

 

 

No one can accuse Castiel of not trying.

"So you guys are drinking tonight? Where?" He asks, an attempt at lighthearted.

Their eyes shift away from him.

"Oh, just at a friend's." One of them answers, evasive.

Castiel can take the hint. 

"Ok, well. Have fun."

"Thanks, yeah." They clear their trays off the table and leave.

New city, new life, new friends - all things Castiel had never tried and apparently wasn't very good at. At least he had Gabriel, his friend from high school who'd agreed to room with him for their freshman year. Gabriel's presence was soothing when he wasn't actively trying to make Castiel uncomfortable with practical jokes and crude comments. Gabe was like a brother, though, and Castiel needed the one steady reminder of his old life, no matter how much he'd hated it, to get him through all the newness. Plus, Gabe knew about all his baggage and he didn't care.

"Party. You're coming."

Well, that was easy.

"Are you sure you want to bring me? I haven't had any luck socializing this week."

"That's because you're calling it 'socializing'. Just… 'hanging out' or 'smoking' or, fuck, anything but 'socializing'."

"I don't want to smoke."

"Shhhh, Cassie. Just make yourself presentable and lose that sweater-vest."  Gabe, lying on his bend, flicked his eyes down Castiel's body expectantly. 

Castiel frowned, unaware his outfit was not considered presentable. "I'm not smoking, Gabe." Cas muttered nervously as he pulled his sweater-vest over his head.

"God, I know." Gabe rolled his eyes dramatically. "I know I can't make you do anything you don't want. I've learned that on multiple occasions, and often painfully."

"Keep it in mind." Castiel smirked, checking his appearance in the mirror briefly and thinking somewhat bitterly that he looked exactly the same, even though Gabriel nodded his approval.

"Much better, less stiff. Let the party animal out… well, that shy, hamster-sized excuse for a party animal you have."

 

* * *

 

Castiel had never been to a party before and he wasn't totally sure what to expect, his head filled with Hollywood b.s. he knew couldn't be accurate. This party turned out to be a small group of people, under 15 total, gathered in an apartment, passing around bottles of alcohol and laughing over poker. Two girls had given up trying to learn the game and decided to make out languidly on the floor, a nervous-looking boy watching them unabashedly.

Gabriel whooped loudly and sarcastically at the sight of the laid-back group and demanded louder music. Everyone in the wide, messy circle greeted him warmly and complied with his request. A few nodded at Castiel and eyed him curiously. Castiel kept his head down. Blend in, that was his goal and had been since he was old enough to understand his parents. Don't stand out, no matter what.

Eventually more people trickled into the tiny room, someone pumped the music up, and the poker game was abandoned for dancing raucously.

Castiel sat in the cramped corner and sipped at a cup of beer and watched Gabe get very familiar with a girl he was amazed to learn only minutes before that Gabe had never met other than tonight. Castiel wished desperately for a brief moment that he could be that easygoing, to dance with and kiss a girl he'd only known for an hour. Or maybe he didn't because now that he thought about it it sounded unsanitary... but at least he wouldn't be awkwardly sitting in a corner alone.

"Hey."

Castiel almost fell over as the boy dropped to the bed beside him, beer in hand, and clapped an arm around his shoulder. Most of his shock came from the fact that this guy was completely gorgeous: short, golden hair that stuck up in feathery spikes and dazzling green eyes with a cocky smile that was somehow completely endearing. The other half of his shock was due to his proximity. He could feel himself staring and he remembered Gabe warning him about his stares so he dropped his eyes hastily to the ground instead. "I'm Dean. That crazy girl over there— name's Jo— made it her mission to tire me out--" Dean tipped his beer in the direction of a perky blond who was tossing soft, golden curls to the heavy beat, "--and there's nowhere else to sit in this jam-packed room. So. Let's get to know each other, huh?"

"Castiel." Castiel sputtered, willing himself not to look up at this god's perfectly shaped mouth, or let himself gaze too long at his sparkling emerald eyes, because at this proximity Castiel was certain he would be interpreted as 'freaky' if he did. His heart was hammering in his chest, his instincts screaming at him to run and don't look back, but Dean was putting off nothing but friendly vibes and Castiel didn't want to call attention to himself.  _Blend in._

"Cool name, but I'll never remember it. I'm gonna call you Cas." Dean sipped from his beer. Castiel was trying to process that Dean hadn't retrieved his arm from around his shoulder yet.

"Alright." Castiel agreed in a soft mumble. He thought he might agree with whatever Dean asked of him at the moment, he was so distracted by his overwhelming beauty.

"You look like you're a few beers away from dancing still." Dean noted casually. Castiel blushed a bit and looked back at the ground. He'd never been great at lying, so he opted for the awkward truth.

"Even with a few more beers in me, I doubt I'll ever get to that stage."

"Aw, come on. Don't be that guy. Dancing's great." Dean winked at him, moving in closer to half-whisper in a conspiratorial way, "chicks dig a guy who can move his hips." 

"Right." Castiel agreed mindlessly again, still dazed. Castiel could see the freckles all along his cheeks and nose at this distance. Probably wasn't a great time to mention that he didn't particularly care about attracting 'chicks', not when Dean had his arm slung so casually over his shoulder and their sides pressed together from hip to shoulder.

"Anyway. Drink up, Cas. The night is young." Dean clinked their plastic cups together before downing the rest of his beer. Castiel was still on his first and it was barely half-empty.

Castiel complied, downing the rest of his beer in several long gulps. Dean watched him, eyes sparkling.

"You sure don't say much, but damn! Boy can drink. I respect that."

Castiel swallowed the last of his beer, a bit alarmed because no, no he couldn't drink he was just nervous as hell and he wanted to remedy that before Dean became aware of it.

"So who brought you here and then abandoned you to a corner?" Dean asked, and Castiel must have been imagining that Dean watched him lick the beer from his lips.

"He didn't… my roommate. He's dancing with that girl." Castiel looked for Gabe in the crowded room before, yeah, they weren't dancing anymore but full on making out against the wall.

"Oh." Dean commented lightly, amused. "Nice."

"He didn't abandon me. I just-- I'm not good at this stuff. That's not Gabe's fault." Castiel shrugged, wishing he had more beer in his cup to continue to drown his nerves. He probably shouldn't be telling Dean how much he sucks at talking to people, but that came with the territory of, well,  _sucking_  at it.

Dean was watching him again when he snuck a glance back at him, but it wasn't the sort of "uh yeah that's obvious you don't even have to say that" look he'd grown used to lately.

"You want to get out of here?"

"I think Gabe is going back to our dorm with her." Castiel surmised dryly as he watched the two edge along the wall to the door. Sure enough, Gabe surfaced from the girl's lips just long enough to make a wild gesture at Castiel and then wave, which he guessed was supposed to mean, "don't interrupt us and I'll see you later".

"I meant with me." Dean smiled at Castiel's confusion and Castiel could actually feel his face warm up.

"Uh."

"Come on." Dean tugged him up off the bed and helped him edge his way through the bodies to the door.

"Thank god, I can hear myself think again!" Dean laughed as they closed the door behind them. Castiel grinned.

"I can hear you talk, too. That was quite a feat to accomplish in there."

Dean stared at him a moment, then shook his head.

"What are you even doing at this school, man? You're way too smart to be here."

"I-- what?" Castiel blinked.

"Look I got a brother just like you, like,  _just like you_. His teachers are promising me he's going wherever the fuck he wants when he graduates. I've lived with smart long enough to recognize it, and you, Cas, are smart as shit."

"I don't think shit is smart."

Dean laughed. Castiel decided right then that he loved Dean's laugh.

"Seriously, why are you wasting your time in a school a high school dropout could get into with a GED?"

"I don't…. A GED is nothing to be ashamed of."

Dean shrugged. "Well, I also had a pretty great recommendation from my language teacher, poor sap. Actually sees potential in me." Dean shook his head like it was pitiable how his teacher believed in him. "I moved around a lot as a kid, my Dad was in the Air Force so we had to, and I picked up a couple of languages along the way: Japanese, Korean, Cantonese… But the rest of my grades are total shit. Anything involving numbers? Phew, I'm screwed."

"I'm taking Japanese this semester." Castiel was staring at Dean's mouth again. He stopped himself as soon as he realized. Dean was smiling gently at him, even though Castiel was sure he'd noticed where his eyes had been. "It's very difficult."

"I know, I recognized you up there. You sit at the front of the class, answer all the teacher's questions correctly… nerd." The way Dean called him "nerd" was so affectionate Castiel didn't even mind. Castiel couldn't believe he hadn't noticed Dean in class.

"Why are you in a 100 level Japanese class if you speak it already?"

"I can speak it, but writing is a whole other ballgame. Plus, easy A, which I could do with right now."

Castiel nodded, but the idea that Japanese could be an easy A for anyone was kind of astounding.  Castiel got the feeling Dean didn't give himself enough credit.

"So." Dean said, and Castiel hadn't realized they were walking down the hallway, down the stairs, until they were outside the dorm. He'd just been following Dean, trying to concentrate on talking to him and not saying anything bizarre. "Your dorm's gonna be preoccupied for a while, huh?" Dean was texting as he talked. Castiel wondered if he was finally getting tired of talking to him.

"Yeah, but it's fine. I'll go to the library and read or something until Gabe texts me."

"Wow, you're a great roommate. You actually don't sound bothered by that at all." Dean looked up from his text to grin at Castiel in amazement Castiel didn't feel he deserved. Castiel shrugged.

"Gabe already warned me he'd be doing this from time to time. We're good friends from high school so I knew what I was getting into."

"Sammy's always giving me shit for bringing people back to the apartment." Castiel's stomach lurched as he noted Dean's purposefully gender neutral 'people'. Not 'girls'. 'People'. Castiel used the same kind of ambiguous words when he referenced his sexuality to near strangers.

"Sammy's your brother?"

"Yup." Dean finished his text and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. They were just standing around now, watching people walk in and out of the dorm.

"You know, you don't have to keep me company. You can go back in and enjoy yourself."

"I am enjoying myself." Dean cocked his head to the side, eyes sweeping over Castiel's face.

"Sure." Castiel snorted.

"Don't sell yourself short, brain. Tell you the truth, I wasn't really up for dancing tonight, but Jo can't be stopped. She and Ruby dragged me here and they won't want to leave for a few hours yet. We're in the same boat."

"Oh?"

"I worked all day, and while I do love to kick back with a beer and relax, that's hardly what you can call what they're doing up there." Dean shook his head. "Noisy parties were never my thing. I could go for more beer, though."

"You work?" Castiel asked. He had a full scholarship so he didn't have to worry about working, but he was always very impressed with students who managed jobs and school.

"Yup. I'm a mechanic down at Singer's Garage." Dean shrugged, nonchalant. "It's nothing fancy but it pays the bills."

"I don't understand how cars work in the slightest, so it sounds very interesting to me."

Dean laughed, green eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, they're pure rocket science. I must be as smart as you, Cas."

Castiel smiled softly, trying not to get caught in how beautiful Dean's smile was.

"That must be it." He said, sincerely. Dean was watching him, his smile fading, and Castiel liked the way he looked at him. He liked looking at him, too, and listening to his easy, throaty conversation. Really, everything about Dean was appealing.

Especially the way he  _smelled_.

Now that they were out in the clean air, Castiel knew what Dean was without question: an alpha. Dean didn't seem to know what Castiel was, though, because he was still talking to him and omegas didn't just 'talk' with alphas. Lucky for Castiel he'd been on hormone suppressants since his first heat and he was covered in beta-masking deodorant… but it didn't always work. There were alphas who could sniff him out sometimes, despite his precautions. Dean didn't seem to be in that minority. Castiel hoped he would stay in that category.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was still thinking about Dean when Monday came and he had to go to class. He thought about Dean while he was in class, and after class, and during lunch while he read a book and sipped a bowl of soup absentmindedly. He willed himself to stop, to think about anything else, but even  _Heart of Darkness_ couldn't distract him from the memory of Dean's green eyes.

It wasn't until he noticed someone watching him that Dean was truly chased from his thoughts. Castiel tensed at the feeling, adrenaline flooding his system, but didn't turn to see who it was immediately. Instead, he looked up at the window in front of him and checked the reflection. A dark haired man with wide brown eyes had his gaze trained on the back of Castiel's head, an unmistakably hungry look there as his fingers clenched around a can of Redbull.

Castiel calmly cleaned up his soup and left the cafeteria.

He picked his way to his next class, unable to keep himself from checking his back every few minutes, but luckily the alpha hadn't followed him. He sat in his lecture class and tried to lose himself in chemistry. Anna, his lab partner, recently started sitting next to him in lecture, and her conversation was pleasant. Castiel even found himself laughing at a hydrogen bonding joke.

Castiel hadn't forgotten about the alpha at lunch, but an hour of struggling to understand the complex arrangements of atoms cleared his anxiety over it somewhat. He was able to walk back to his dorm without checking behind him, though he did take the longer, somewhat obscure route to tire out anyone who might follow him.

Gabriel was there when he unlocked the door.

"Hey Gabe."

"Cas."

Castiel jolted at the deep rumble of a voice and his eyes immediately flew to the source: Dean was sitting on the bed next to Gabe. Castiel choked down an instinctive bout of omega jealousy as Gabe lifted his hand from where it was resting on Dean's shoulder. Dean wasn't  _his_  to be jealous over, he reminded himself.

"Hey Cassie. Look who dropped in."

Dean stared at him, and Castiel couldn't help but notice that his gaze was much less playful than it had been Friday night. Anxiety swept through him again.

"Dean." Castiel swallowed hard, tearing his eyes from Gabe's hand.

"Sorry to just stop by. Everyone knows where Gabe lives, so it wasn't hard to find." Dean said, rising from Castiel's bed and stretching, nonchalant.

"No. You're welcome to drop by anytime." Gabe's eyebrows shot up at Castiel's blanket invitation, but he stayed silent. What were the words coming out of Castiel's mouth? Dean coming here was extremely dangerous. His bed probably reeked of omega pheromones. His hamper was likely a hotbed for scent, too. If Dean didn't already know he was an omega, Castiel was pretty sure he did now. Maybe that's why he seemed different?

"Alright." Dean smiled quietly, looking uncharacteristically awkward. "I, uh, I just forgot to get your number on Friday and I haven't met many people here that I get along with yet. So... yeah."

"Of course." Castiel's voice was more of a squeak than he'd hoped it would be, already reaching for his phone. "Yeah, tell me your number and I'll text you so you have mine."  
They exchanged numbers and Dean said he had to get going or he was going to be late for work. He squeezed past Castiel in the small room to get to the door, and Castiel found himself pressing into his closet to avoid inhaling too much of that alpha smell that made his head swim.

"Gabe." Castiel hissed as he rounded on him. "How does it smell?" His voice fell from an angry growl to a nervous whimper.

"Uh, smells normal to me, Cas." Gabe shrugged, scratching out something on a pad of paper.

"No, you idiot! Dean's an alpha. How could you just let him in here?"

Gabe froze.

"Shit." He immediately breathed deeply and closed his eyes, serious for once. "Shit. I don't really smell anything." But Gabe was a beta and their sense of smell wasn't as keen as alphas', which is probably why Dean's alpha status didn't register with Gabe in the first place. "I'm sorry, Castiel, it was a totally dipshit move on my part. I didn't even think about--"

"It's ok." Castiel breathed, trying to calm his beating heart. Castiel couldn't freak out every time Gabriel let a male alpha in the room. "It's fine. I can't expect you to screen people for me. Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten mad. It's just-- Dean is…"

"He seems like a nice guy." Gabe said, sounding guilty still. "I didn't catch any signs of possessive alpha bullshit. I'll be more careful from here on out, though."

"Yeah." Castiel agreed, trying to reassure himself. "Yeah, if you can't smell it, maybe he didn't catch it."

"I don't think he did. You know you've only lived here a week, and you wear that beta deodorant even when you sleep… I doubt there's much to smell." Gabe said, sounding more confident than he looked. "Anyway, he seems nice."

"Yeah." Castiel agreed again, numb. "Yeah."

"You two gonna bang?"

Castiel almost dropped his bag on the floor, computer and all.

"What the hell, Gabe?"

"Just curious." Gabe shrugged. "He's incredibly hot. I had to ask."

"Keep your hands to yourself." Castiel growled. Gabe beamed at him.

"Haha! Jealousy. Even with a face like that, you know I'm straighter than white girl shampoo, Cassie. So you're just  _hoping_  to bump uglies?"

Castiel rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Do you have to be so crude?"

"Come on, tell me about your crush on the big, bad alpha." Gabe teased, wiggling his eyebrows as he adjusted himself on his bed, relaxing. "He at least bat for the right team?"

Castiel shrugged off his jacket and glanced at Gabe, who was grinning at him in that infuriating way of his. Ugh, what the hell.

"I have no idea. I think he likes girls, though."

"Aw. Poo." Gabe seemed suddenly to lose interest. "Sorry, Cassie. But, hey, at least you're probably safe if he did smell, uh…" Gabe seemed to realize he'd said something incredibly insensitive as he trailed off. Castiel shrugged.

"Yeah. Probably."

"I'll be more careful." Gabe sounded serious again. It was so weird to hear him attempt serious. Castiel met his blue eyes, read the regret there. "I'm sorry Cas. I'll be more careful from here on out."

Castiel's lips quirked up in a smile. "Don't call me Cas."

 

* * *

 

Castiel liked learning. He liked reading, and he even liked studying. He hated some of his teachers, but he still learned the subject because in the back of his head he remembered the whispers of 'bitch' and 'whore' and he knew what was waiting for him if he failed at his education. So he got top scores, he studied hard, and he didn't think about Dean, or text him, beyond that first text to give him his number.

Dean was dangerous now.

Still, when his name popped up on his screen with a little letter below it, Castiel opened it.

_Having some friends over tonight. Want to come?_

Castiel's throat clenched and despite himself he asked:

_How many friends?_

It was a good ten minutes or so before Dean replied.

_5? It's not a big party if ur worried._

No that wasn't what Castiel was worried about. Castiel wanted to believe Dean was a nice person, but he was an alpha, and Castiel couldn't take any chances.

_Can I bring Gabe?_

Castiel got through another page of homework problems before Dean texted back-

_Ok, but keep him on a leash._

Castiel actually laughed at that. Gabe, who was reading a book for his philosophy class, looked at him with some measure of interest.

_What do you mean?_

_I mean don't let him wreck my house. I don't have the cash to replace everything._

Castiel laughed again, this time earning a "What?" from his nosy roommate.

"You want to come with me to make sure Dean's cool?"

"Sure. I'm game." Gabe agreed good-naturedly.

"You can't destroy anything in his house, though. Those are his conditions."

Gabe looked shocked.

"I'm hurt, Cassie, that you think I could treat another human's property with such reckless indifference!"

"Whatever." Castiel rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Gabe."

 

* * *

 

It was dark in Dean's apartment when he opened the door for them. Castiel looked around curiously, but the only light came from a large TV on one side of the small living room and Castiel couldn't make out anything other than a large couch with several people sprawled out over it, and leaning up against it on the floor.

Dean put a finger to his lips and pulled Castiel in by the wrist, quickly shutting the door behind them. Castiel was about to protest the pushy action but Dean let go before he could bother with it. Castiel looked around awkwardly for a place to sit before the blond (Dean called her… Jo?) from the party waved him over to an empty space by her on the couch.

Dean reclined on the floor next to a dark haired girl and pulled her against his chest, eyes settling on the TV.

Well that answered that question.

Castiel tried to ignore the dull crashing sound in his head. There was never any chance Dean would be into him anyway, but it still hurt to see it laid out bare in front of him.

Castiel didn't know what movie they were watching, but Jo quickly filled him in with quiet whispers. Castiel nodded and pretended to be paying attention but all he could think was  _no get your hands off Dean he's mine_. Which immediately sparked a whole wave of guilt and shame because no, no Dean was  _not_  his and he shouldn't be feeling this way for someone he'd talked to twice.

He tried not to watch when they started making out. Instead, he asked Jo questions about the movie and glued his eyes to the glowing screen because, fuck, Castiel hated action but watching it was so much better than the alternative. Gabe was restless, propped up against the couch next to him, probably bored with sitting still for so long.

Eventually someone kicked Dean and the girl, earning a loud "Sam, what the fuck?" from Dean. A lanky boy with a very cute face scoffed loudly and complained,

"Dean I can't hear the movie over the sound of you two sucking each other's faces off."

 _Thank god_ Castiel thought, the tension in his chest loosening. Dean growled low in his throat but they didn't start back up, for which Castiel was infinitely grateful.

Castiel made it through two hours, somehow. Then the lights came on and he got his first glimpse of Dean's apartment. It was clean, if a little dingy and dusty, and very simple. The TV was the most expensive thing in the room, large and looming. The kitchen was connected to the living room and a hallway lead from the kitchen to what must be the boys' separate rooms. It didn't look heavily lived in, with hardly any decorations on the walls. There weren't any pictures on display, either.

Castiel was introduced to the few other people on the couch or around it: Chuck, the nervous guy who was watching the two girls make out at the party, Jo, who Castiel already liked a great deal, Ruby, a dark haired beauty who made Castiel a little nervous, Garth, a friendly beta who intimidated Castiel to the amount of exactly 0, and Kevin, an intense Asian guy who could probably kick Castiel's ass if he looked at him off.  Lisa was the name of the girl Dean had his arm wrapped around. Castiel didn't care for her, though he tried to act neutral. She was nice enough.

As everyone stood up and stretched out the stiffness from two hours of the movie, Castiel wandered over to the bookshelf, unable to help himself. He wondered what kind of books Dean kept close to his heart.

"I admire a man who checks the bookshelf of a house first." Castiel almost jumped at the sound of the voice behind him. Sam. His bright hazel eyes tracked Castiel's movements, his hands shoved in his pockets in a show of teenage shyness.

Castiel smiled faintly.

" _Crime and Punishment_ yours?" Somehow Castiel couldn't picture Dean sitting through the epic novel. Sam nodded, eyes brightening even more. "Probably my favorite book of all time."

"It's a beautiful piece of writing." Sam murmured in agreement. "Russian authors in particular seem to be able to capture poverty and suffering with great austerity."

"Well, Russia's pretty well versed on the topics."

"Did you hear about the laws they passed recently?"

Castiel swallowed hard.

"On omegas.  I only know bits and pieces."

"Male omegas must report to the government and they're tagging them so it's impossible to hide their omega status, kicking the homeless out of shelters and forcing them into whore houses, legally excluding them from certain jobs… It's like the Holocaust all over again. Despicable."

Sam was an alpha. Castiel could smell it thickening in the air between them. He edged back slightly.

"You think so?"

"There's nothing worse than persecuting people based on characteristics they were born with and have no control over."

"That's very enlightened of you, Sam. I wish society agreed with you."

"I want to work in law so I can fight that kind of thing." Sam's hand brushed over the bookshelf fondly, and Castiel was caught by the passion in his words.

"Hey. Nerds." Dean's green, green eyes pulled Castiel in over Sam's shoulder. "Pizza's here." Castiel wondered why Dean was staring at him like that, so intense. Dean always seemed to be staring at him.  Castiel nodded.

Lisa giggled as Dean fed her a slice of pizza. Dean silenced her giggle with a kiss. Castiel bit into his own pizza and tried to focus on what Sam was saying. The kid was definitely smart, almost too smart. Castiel could barely keep up.

"-disenfranchising the poor while simultaneously using their votes to leverage their own political prowess?" He finished another rant.

"Hey kid." Gabe interrupted Sam before he could start up again, looking bored. "Any of these chicks single?"

"Uh. I think Ruby might be. Careful, though-- she's been known to bite." Sam replied smoothly.

"Excellent." Gabe grinned, sliding away to try to chat up Ruby.

"Personal experience?" Castiel wondered, amused.

Sam flushed at the implication but said nothing. The kid was young, probably no older than 16, so Castiel hoped he didn't have experience with Ruby yet.

"Ah." Castiel took another bite of pizza.

Sam watched him chew. Castiel should have known better than to glance over to where Dean and Lisa were sitting.

"You like him." Sam surmised quietly. Castiel physically jerked away.

"Uh."

"It's ok, I won't tell him. I don't think he's noticed." Sam said quickly, chuckling.

"Thanks. It's not a big deal. He's just--"

"Hot?" Castiel laughed at the eye roll in Sam's tone.

"I guess you get that a lot?"

"He certainly takes advantage of it."

Castiel watched Lisa nip at Dean's ear, watched his eyes flare with desire before he captured her lips with his.

"Seems to." Castiel agreed.

"They've only been dating a few weeks. If you wanted to, you know, try for it." Sam shrugged, sounding serious and, oddly, a little sad. Castiel stared hard at his pizza before biting into it again.

"Naw. I'll get over it. Hopefully I'm not that obvious."

"Only if you're paying close attention. I have a habit of paying too much attention to everything, though, so you're probably safe." Sam grinned.

 

* * *

 

"I knew you two would get along." Dean squished himself down on the couch between Sam and Castiel. Gabe was making headway with a half-interested Ruby and Sam tended to go off on things even Castiel could barely understand, but Castiel was enjoying himself.

"Why do you even hang out with my bonehead brother?" Sam laughed, "He's a horrible influence."

"Shut up, twig." Dean scowled. "I practically raised you. I'm  _your_  horrible influence."

"I know." Sam said, and his gentle smile was filled with nothing but affection.

Castiel glanced at his watch. After watching Dean and Lisa's PDA all night, Castiel was ready to go home, stroke himself to an empty, sad orgasm and cry into his pillow until sleep overtook him. If he stayed much longer, he was afraid he would give his true feelings away to the entire room, scent blocking deodorant be damned.

"I should get going. It's late."

"It's a Saturday night, Cas. Live a little." Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel tried not to stare at it, already overwhelmed by their proximity.

"I'm exhausted." Castiel was only half lying.

"Yeah, stay, Cas." Sam pleaded softly, and then there's twin pairs of hazel and green eyes pinning him to the couch, trying to push him over the edge.

"What else do you have planned?" Castiel asked, almost ready to give in.

"We were probably just going to pop in another movie."

"Don't make me sit through another one of their make out sessions alone." Sam pleaded again, to which Dean rolled his eyes.

"Don't watch if it bothers you so much, pervert."

"I can hear it. It's gross. Stay and distract me, Cas." Sam whined.

"No, I really will fall asleep on your couch if I stay." Castiel sighed heavily.

"So? Sleep on the couch. You're welcome to." Dean shrugged casually and warning bells went off in Castiel's head. No, he can't do that. No matter what, no matter how sweet Dean and Sam may seem, he cannot fall asleep, defenseless, in the home of two alphas.

"No." Castiel said firmly, rising to his feet. "Gabe? I'm ready to go."

"Baby, you know who to call if you ever need a good time." Gabe kissed Ruby's hand, who only looked slightly disgusted at the outdated gesture, before he waved a three fingered goodbye to her and made his way to Castiel's side.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean caught Castiel's arm as Castiel moved toward the door. "We cool?  It just seems like… you're upset."

"I'm not upset." Castiel eyed the hand on his forearm. "Thank you for the invitation, Dean. I enjoyed myself. Nice to meet you, Sam." He nodded to Sam, who was watching Castiel with the same concern as Dean. With that, Castiel shook Dean off, maybe a little too hard, and left.

 

* * *

 

Castiel liked chemistry best, and good thing too because he wanted to be doctor. He spent hours upon hours in the library practicing equations for calculating the wavelength of elements and acid-base equilibriums. He loved the library, loved the way it smelled like old books and peace. He appreciated how chemistry fit together with steady rules he could memorize and practice and master. Castiel wanted to feel in control, and the library offered him an environment where he could accomplish that.

Which is why he didn't expect it when the alpha that scented him at lunch the second week of school backed him into a corner of the bathroom.

"I almost didn't sniff you out, bitch. You mask your scent well."

Castiel's heart pumps blood to his brain, he can hear every thud of his heart in his ears, but his brain isn't what reacts. Pure instinct, he lashes out with a slash to the head, then a swift elbow to the stomach, and the boy crumples in on himself, allowing Castiel to slip free and run for the door.

He doesn't make it.

"Little whore!" The man grunts in his ear after he tackles him to the ground. "I'm not going to hurt you."  
If adrenaline hadn't whited his mind out Castiel would have laughed in derision. He probably believed it, too, believed that he was giving Castiel something he  _wanted_ ; a struggle between an alpha and an omega. Hot.

To his surprise, the alpha backs off and onto his knees, letting Castiel scramble away from him as he raises his hands in a submissive gesture. Alphas who attacked omegas in bathrooms didn't act  _submissive_.

Castiel is bewildered, his instincts thrown off by the uncharacteristic behavior. The alpha starts to talk before he can get his bearings again.

"I wanted to offer you an opportunity before you decked me. Why are you wasting your time in school, probably accruing unnecessary debt, when you could be making money right now? You can't actually believe that anyone will hire you when you get out of here, not for anything respectable. You're very pretty, and you could fetch quite a price if sold by the right auction house."

"I'm here on a scholarship, asshole." Castiel snarled. "I don't need to  _prostitute_ myself."

"I bet you feel lucky, don't you, to have gotten that scholarship? Too lucky. Bet you had to hide who you were to even be considered for it. More of a close call, really. When will your luck run out? When will you have to face the real world, where no one considers you worth two shits?"

"Fuck you." Castiel grits out, but it isn't the first time he's heard it. The low, gravelly voice of the man in front of him echoes words he's heard too many times in too many other voices and he can't pretend they don't get to him.

The man holds out a card.

"Crowley. If you decide you'd rather not take any chances with your future employment, I can give you something real to hold onto, to support yourself in style. I promise you this, omega, with a pretty face like yours… you could pull in hundreds, if not thousands, a day. But you're not getting any younger so you might want to rake in the big bucks while you still got the looks for it. Think about it."

Castiel spits on the card and scrambles to his feet, slamming into the door with force that carries him through to a run once he's out of the bathroom, a pace he can't slow until he's gulping down fresh air from outside.

 

* * *

 

"Cassie."

Castiel grunts into his pillow in response.

"Cassie, babe, talk to me."

"Leave me alone, Gabe. I'm tired."

"You're not. Even I can smell how upset you are, and I've got a shitty beta snozzle on me."

"Fuck." Castiel grumbles, burying himself further in the comforter. "You don't want to know, Gabe. Trust me."

"Was it Dean?" Gabriel's voice is heavy with guilt.

Castiel sat up suddenly.

"No, it wasn't Dean!" He was unnecessarily outraged by the accusation, even though he had considered Dean a threat to his person more than once.

Gabe doesn't defend himself, just breathes a sigh of relief.

"Let me know if I need to kick anyone's ass, Cassie."

Castiel feels a faint growl low in his throat. He launches himself out of bed, grabs his coat and leaves before he can snap at Gabe for something that isn't really his fault.

He doesn't need a beta defending his _fucking honor_ for him. Castiel can take care of himself.

 

* * *

 

Castiel's banging out his frustration on a piano when he feels eyes on him. He's in a soundproof room in the basement of the music building and he's already been attacked once today so his heart jumps into his throat and he leaps like a startled deer from the piano bench and into the wall.

Summer green eyes widen in shock from the small window of the door to the practice room.

_Dean. Alpha._

Castiel can't think straight until Dean walks into the room, hands raised above his head in a 'don't shoot' sort of gesture that signals to the primitive side of Castiel's brain, the side that's in charge right now, that Dean doesn't mean him harm.

"How did you find me?" Castiel's throat unclenches enough for him to spit out.

"I just came from the Business building next door. I always listen to the kids here practice while I'm waiting for the bus. Heard some great tunes, wanted to see if I recognized the kid."

Dean  _smells_ , overpowering and sickly sweet, like he's been working out. His smell fills the tiny room and does nothing to calm Castiel's dry mouth and tensed shoulders.

"What, did you run a mile or something?" Castiel blurts out, unable to breathe over the scent of alpha choking out the air in the room. It's heady and intoxicating and Castiel hates the way it makes him feel out of control with want and sick to his stomach at the same time. He can't stand it, not after what happened in the bathroom today.

"How did you…" Dean's eyebrows twist up for a moment and then a blank, neutral expression settles over his face. "Oh."

No beta would notice his smell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still looking for a beta, if anyone is interested :).

Castiel wonders briefly if he can make a run for it. He’s taken a few years of martial arts so he could probably stun Dean long enough to escape if he really wanted. His survival instincts are screaming in his head to use whatever means necessary to get out of this sound-proofed room with an alpha blocking his only escape.

The rational part of his brain, barely hanging on through the demanding haze of instinct, doesn’t want to hurt Dean, especially not unprovoked. He ends up frozen in indecision.

“Whoah, Cas, it’s ok!” Dean seems to see the internal struggle in his expression and he throws his hands up in the air even farther to signal he means no harm.

“Yes.” Castiel croaks out, his throat uncomfortably dry. “Yes, it’s true. I’m an omega.” Castiel wants to follow that confession up with a thousand argumentative clauses, but he knows defending himself doesn’t do any good. Alpha entitlement is impossible to argue with since it isn’t based on any sort of logic.

Dean seems to take in his frightened posture, the way he’s pressed himself as close to the wall as he can get and put the piano between himself and Dean, and something clicks in him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

_Little whore, I’m not going to hurt you._

The phrasings a little too close for comfort for Castiel and he flinches at the memory. 

“Then leave me alone, Dean.” Castiel whimpers. “Just leave me alone.” He can feel the old depression creeping up on him again. This beautiful creature, something precious he’d coveted and fretted over in his spare time, against his own advice, knew his secret. He couldn’t fantasize about Dean and him in an alpha/beta romance anymore, couldn’t dream about continuing the illusion of equality. That wonderful daydream of his, the one he used to lull himself into sleep, was shattered for good now. Dean knew. He couldn’t pretend otherwise, even in daydreams. The reality was all too heartbreaking.

Dean looks a little stricken by his request. He reaches one hand out toward him, cautious, and edges forward a little.

“Cas, are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Castiel snarls, much the same as he had snarled at Gabriel. Dean recoils at his tone in a way Gabe hadn’t.

“Ok.” Dean agrees. “You’re fine. Look, I’m just going to open the door to air this room out, and then I’m going to sit over in that corner-“ Dean points at the corner opposite Castiel’s corner, “and maybe we can talk a little bit.”

The cool air from outside wafts through the room, airing out the thick scent of alpha Dean brought in with him. Castiel keeps his gaze hard on Dean as Dean moves to the corner he’d pointed out and sits down as promised, back leaning against the wall.

Castiel can breathe again. He draws in long gulps of air that clear his mind, push the instinct back, allow his rational side to resurface. 

Dean  _knows_.

Castiel tries to choke back the tears that rise unbidden to his eyes as that thought sinks through the rational side of him too. 

“Fuck.” Castiel mutters, scrubbing at them as they surface.

Dean watches him. Castiel hates it.

“Cas.”

Castiel closes his eyes to the familiar, tender nickname. Dean sounds so gentle, so unlike an alpha. Without his smell cloying him, Castiel can almost pretend he isn’t.

“Tell me what happened.”

It’s a soft order. Castiel wants to buck out against it, growl that no one bosses him around,  _no one_.

“Got sniffed out.” Castiel hates himself for it, but it turns out some parts of himself he can’t fight. Dean’s his alpha in his head, even if he really isn’t, and the omega part of him wants to follow his orders. Castiel almost laughs at how pathetic he is for convincing himself of such a thing through fantasy alone.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice is so level and calm. Castiel draws on his calm, breathes it in like he can force it down his throat and into his hammering heart.

“No.”

“Did he try?” Castiel hears it this time, the rage bubbling underneath Dean’s calm tone. Castiel shivers at it, the omega in him responding to Dean’s apparent protective streak for him.

“Not really. Tried to get me to sell myself.” Castiel wants to be sick. He shouldn’t be telling Dean all this, shouldn’t be telling anyone really but especially not Dean… it’s nothing he can’t deal with. It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to him by far.

Dean just nods, but Castiel sees the muscle twitch in the corner of his jaw.

“Then?”

“Then I spit on his business card and ran away.” Castiel wraps his arms around his body, suddenly cold. He  _ran away_. God, that sounded so pathetic out loud. Like  _prey_.

Dean shrugs out of his jacket.

“Can I toss this to you?”

“… Sure.”

Castiel drapes Dean’s jacket over his shoulders. Now that he’s calmed down and out of fight or flight mode, the pungent smell of Dean actually helps his shivers more than the warmth of the cloth. His alpha’s smell. Except Dean isn’t his alpha and he really has to stop thinking like that.

“Seriously, you just came from class? You smell like you ran a marathon.” Castiel can’t help asking about it. He’s already found out so it doesn’t matter anymore, even if it is a little rude. Dean grins, and he doesn’t seem embarrassed by Castiel commenting on his smell.

“I did, before that. I missed the bus so I had to run to class. It sucked. It was only a mile, though… I should probably work out more if I smell like that.”

Castiel laughs, a nervous shake of a laugh, and Dean laughs too.

Dean talks to him a little more about class, life, Gabe. Dean tells him about the award Sammy just won for speech and debate and how proud he is of him. Castiel complains about how infrequently Gabe does his wash, the stink in their room. Castiel doesn’t have the luxury of procrastinating his laundry, not when Gabe has strange visitors on an almost daily basis.

They don’t talk about why Castiel’s still plastered to the wall in fear even though Dean clearly means him no harm until Castiel slides to the ground, finally relaxed enough to do so, and Dean and has to look at him through the legs of the piano.

“I’m coming over there so I can actually see you.”

Despite himself, Castiel finds his whole body tensing.

“Ok.” He whispers. Dean sits up and walks to the other corner on his side.

“That’s better.” Dean smiles as he relaxes against the corner, bringing his legs up to his chest to minimize the amount of space he takes up. The whole posture is very nonthreatening, which Castiel appreciates, even if Dean didn’t think about it consciously. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hey.” Castiel nods.

“Has this happened before?” Dean asks and Castiel knows exactly what he’s talking about even though they dropped the subject long ago.

“Not here, so far.”

“In the past?”

Castiel swallows hard.

“Of course. Can’t block my smell completely. An alpha nose is a powerful tool.” Castiel can’t help how bitter he sounds.

“Right.” Dean nods, sounding pained.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dean.” Castiel closes his eyes, trying to shut out the rush of memories he likes to keep tampered down, deep down, where he doesn’t have to think of them. 

“Right.” Dean is silent and Castiel can’t open his eyes just yet, still trying to keep those memories straining against his mind at bay. “You probably didn’t eat then?”  
Castiel nods. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until Dean mentioned it.

“Let’s go get some lunch.”  
“Don’t you have to catch the bus?” Castiel realizes suddenly. He had no idea how long they’d been talking, but it was probably more than fifteen minutes.

“Naw. It’s fine.”

“You work.”

“I’ve got enough sick days built up. I’ll just text Bobby. Tuesday afternoons are slow as hell anyway.”

“Dean, you don’t have to.” Castiel shakes his head, immediately guilty.

“Hey. If I say it’s no problem, it’s no problem. Don’t even worry about it, Cas, trust me.” Dean holds his eyes until Castiel drops his gaze to the floor, submitting again almost against his will. His alpha taking care of him, so gentle and thoughtful, soothed an ache deep inside. Ugh, he was so pathetic.

Dean pulled his phone out and texted while they walked. He bought Castiel lunch, even though Castiel protested heartily, and they sat outside in the warm, almost-fall sun. It felt good, felt nice. Felt like one of Castiel’s dreams. Dean looked beautiful in the rays of sunlight, especially the way they glinted off his wheat-colored hair and lit it with gold highlights. His eyes sparkled with green and Castiel could see each freckle clearly. It almost hurt, how perfect it all was. Castiel forgot the fact that they could never be equals.

When he finished, Dean asked if he wanted to go watch a movie or play some video games. Just relax. 

“I have homework.” Castiel said faintly, feeling infinitely guilty because Dean blew off work for him. “But I don’t have to do it until later, I guess.” He forced the nervous, grade-oriented premed in him to relax.

They played some car game in the rec room at the University Center and Dean, predictably, kicked his ass. Castiel’s complete lack of interest in video games had never helped him score macho points with other males, especially alphas. Dean didn’t tease him over it, though, he just victoriously pumped a fist in the air.

“You gonna be ok, Cas?” He asked as Castiel said goodbye. 

“Yeah.”  _No. Now I won’t be able to shut you off._

“You’ve got my number. If… if you ever need anything, please. I can’t stand this kind of thing.” Dean let anger leak into his voice for the first time. “I can’t stand bullying, especially not with you.” 

‘Bullying’ might be an understatement, but Castiel didn’t comment on it.

_Especially not with me?_

“Ok.” Castiel wasn’t sure why he was agreeing. He wasn't going to call Dean, not about this stuff. “Sure, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was a nice kick to the throat when Castiel got his lunch, looked around the cafeteria, and saw Dean waving him over, his arm around his girlfriend. Castiel had been studiously avoiding thinking about Dean ever since the piano room, especially since he couldn’t help the possessive twinge at the thought of him and the way his mind continued to refer to Dean as  _his_  alpha even though Castiel knew he definitely, absolutely, was not.

Castiel made himself say hello to Lisa.

“Hey, Cas.” She said, and Castiel hated that nickname in anyone’s mouth but Dean’s.

The only seat open was one on the opposite side of the table to Dean. Jo was sitting next to Dean, chatting his ear off about something. She waved to Castiel as he sat down. Chuck smiled at him too. It felt good to be greeted like he belonged. Dean must not have told them.

“Our Japanese teacher hates me.” Dean grinned from across the table.

“Stop insulting him in Japanese, then.” Castiel smiled into his food, shaking his head in exasperation. Most of the other students in their class weren’t as advanced as Dean so they didn’t catch on when Dean used informal language, purposefully, with their teacher.

“But he’s such a dick.” Dean sighed wistfully. 

“Dean!” Lisa scolded her boyfriend. “Don’t mess with your teachers. They’re in charge of your grades. You want to be a translator, right?”

“Kind of.” Dean smiled at her, swiping a thumb fondly over her smooth brown cheek. “Along those lines.”

“Ok. Don’t screw it up with your attitude.” Lisa frowned. Castiel had to agree with her.

“Come on, though, Cas. He’s a dick, right?”

Castiel snorted as he shoveled steamed vegetables into his mouth.

“Yeah, he’s definitely a dick.” The guy liked to humiliate the people in class who didn’t do their homework; he took visible pleasure in it. Castiel thought everyone should do their homework and had little sympathy for those who didn’t, but he didn’t  _enjoy_  watching them drown. “Your girlfriend’s right. He’s a dick you have to put up with for one year of your life so you can get a grade that will help you get a job for the rest of your life.”

“Aw, shit, not you too, Cas.”

“Thank you.” Lisa nodded at him, a twinkle in her eyes. Castiel swallowed his mouthful of mashed potatoes over the lump in his throat. He could be nice to Lisa, but he definitely didn’t want to be her friend.

“I like you, Cas. You kick his ass.” Jo said approvingly, surveying him in a way that made Castiel very nervous. “Keep him close, Dean.”

Castiel blushed.

They talked about something else then, something Castiel couldn’t focus on because Dean’s best friend  _liked him_  and she told him to  _keep him close_.

“Ash.” The dude next to him that he’d never met before interrupted his self-centered thoughts. “Don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“Castiel.” Castiel shook his hand. Beta male. Not a threat. “So, what’s your major?” Castiel attempted casual conversation.

“Computer Science.” Ash stretched languidly, rubbing his stomach in a bizarre way. “You?”

“Premed.” 

“Ooh, science. Biology. Chemistry. All those things I stay away from. I like numbers and machines, thanks very much.”

Castiel laughed.

“Computer Science is, by definition of the name, science.”

“Barely. It’s mostly math. I can deal with math.” Ash grinned at him, forcing a very unhealthy looking lunch down his throat.

“Right.” Castiel’s least favorite subject was math, but he didn’t like to talk about that. It made him seem weak to many of the other overly competitive premeds.

“Shit, those two are probably plotting how to destroy the world.” Dean’s eyes darted between them. “Why did we let them sit together?”

“Quick, rearrange!” A redhead Castiel hadn’t met before picked up her chair, walked around Ash, and shoved herself between Ash and Castiel. “Hey, I’m Charlie.” She grinned at him as she reached over Ash for her plate. Alpha female. Fuck.

Castiel couldn’t speak, but he made himself shake her hand.

“That’s even worse.” Dean groaned. 

“Leave him alone.” Jo elbowed Dean in the ribs. “He’s going to have to get used to everyone in the group, including the evil geniuses.”

“That much brain in one concentrated area…” Dean smiled a bit. “You forget I live with Sam. I know how terrifying smart can get.”

“When your brother ages out, please let me know. I have first dibs.” Jo licked some ice cream off her spoon.

“Get in line, blondie.” Charlie quirked a smile. “I’ll fight you for him.”

“Gross. Both you cougars keep your paws off Sam. He’s sixteen, for fuck’s sake.”

“He won’t be sixteen forever.” Jo grinned at him, batting her lashes innocently.

“Wow.” Castiel said before he could help himself. Charlie laughed into her soup.

“Alright, we’re overwhelming the newb over here. Gotta keep a lid on the crazy until he knows we’re harmless.” Charlie said.

“I think the cat’s out of the bag, Charlie.” Dean sighed, kissing Lisa goodbye as she got up and gathered her things. “Bye, babe.”

“See ya.” Lisa grabbed her lunch tray and left.

“You guys are so cute.” Jo leaned her chin on her hand as a sly smile spread across her lips. “So… when are you going to break up with her?”

Castiel feels a shock go through him and he straightens up without thinking. Dean’s eyes flick to him before he lets out a heavy sigh.

“Damn it, Jo.”

“Come on.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“No.” Charlie slurps more soup, eyes bright. “I think we’re all too curious about your private life now. You guys seem totally fine.”

“I’m not.” Ash raises his hand. “If y’all are going to talk Dean’s love life I’m gettin’ the hell outta here. No offense, man.”

“Please do.” Dean grins at him as Ash shoves the rest of his hotdog in his mouth and makes a quick getaway. Dean’s eyes flick to Castiel again for a second before he stares at his clasped hands studiously.

“Seconded.” Chuck grabs his stuff and follows Ash to the tray conveyer belt. Dean waits until they’re out of sight before he shoots Jo a reluctant glare.

“I dunno. It’s just not really clicking. She’s great and I like her a lot, but I don’t feel it.”

“Everything but the sex? I’ve heard you two. I don’t think there’s any issues there.”

Dean’s eyes definitely land on Castiel this time. Castiel realizes he’s gripping his fork far too hard and makes himself relax. He’s also probably staring at Dean too intensely so he drops his gaze to his food and focuses on that instead.

“Christ, Jo.”

“Don’t fuck in my bedroom and I won’t mention you fucking in my bedroom.” Jo’s tone is flat as she quirks an expectant eyebrow. Charlie bursts out laughing.

“Oh, son. You done screwed up there.” Charlie shakes her head.

Dean sighs again, exasperated with the two girls. 

“Well, do it soon because I don’t think she has any idea. You don’t want her to get even more attached. Things could get really messy.”

“I honestly think she’ll be fine. We aren’t incredibly close.” Dean picks at his food without actually eating anything.

“Alright. Call me if you need to.” Jo ruffled a hand through Dean’s hair, and though the condescending gesture seemed to irk him momentarily he also looked grateful for the support. Charlie was still giggling to herself.

“Lisa into girls too by any chance?”

“So now you’re after my brother  _and_  my girlfriend?” Dean deadpanned, irritated.

“Hey, you surround yourself with hotties, what can I say? Especially this one here. Where the hell did you find him anyway, a modeling agency?” 

Castiel felt his entire face turn red.

“Baby, if you ever want a good tumble in the sheets… I’m one sexually frustrated nerd and I don’t care much for small talk. We can skip straight to the good stuff.” Charlie looked at him through hooded eyes, wiggling her eyebrows. Castiel thought he might choke on his own tongue.

“Hey, hey.” Dean snapped his fingers. “Eyes over here, Red. He’s not interested.” Dean’s voice was a low growl.

“Alright, alright. Big, scary alpha voice. I’ll leave your pretty friend alone.” Charlie rolled her eyes, starting on her soup again.

She wasn’t wrong. Castiel couldn’t help looking at Dean, wondering at the gruff quality of his voice, a blatant display of alpha dominance, but Dean only met his gaze for a split second before he returned his attention to eating.

They finished their food and dropped it off at the tray conveyer belt. Charlie waved goodbye before all 110 pounds of her took off in the opposite direction of Dean and Castiel. How could someone so small be so intimidating?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make assumptions. If you like the femme-fatale type, please go for it, by all means.” Dean muttered almost shyly as they walked together, scratching the back of his head. Castiel didn’t even know where he was walking to, only that he was walking with Dean and that’s all that mattered at the moment.

“Not really.” Castiel admitted. He never talked about his sexual preferences with anyone other than Gabe and Balthazar, and that one incredibly awkward time with his parents, but Dean already knew he was an omega and he didn’t treat him any differently. Maybe he wouldn’t care.

It wasn’t a very smart move, but Castiel continued anyway,

“’Girl’ isn’t actually my type.” His voice seemed to shake as he said it. Dean didn’t react, not in any noticeable way.

“That’s pretty common, though, right?”

“What- what do you mean?”

“For, uh…” Dean looked around them and quieted as he realized a group of people were passing right next to them and Castiel finally caught on.  _For male omegas._

“Yeah.” Castiel said quietly. “Yeah, it does seem to come with the territory. Not always, but most of the time.”

“Huh.” Dean nodded, taking in this information with same expression he might if Castiel told him he preferred dogs over cats. Dean was truly a mystery. Castiel had never encountered an alpha who was just so… chill about everything, so devoid of stereotypes he expected Castiel to fill. “I haven’t met many before, or not that I know of. Apparently you guys can hide pretty well, and who could blame you for it? I used to think.. you know… that they were just really rare and that’s why I never saw them, but maybe I was just oblivious. Sometimes on the streets or the bus I’ll catch a whiff of… something. Something that smells like food or summer or the air after it’s rained… the smell itself differs, but there’s always this hunger that hits me in my gut.”

Castiel can barely believe Dean’s talking about this with him. He’s never heard an alpha describe omega scent before. He’d never been friends with an alpha before, though, either. Alphas smelled like heat to him, warm and burning through his body, cajoling him into sexual desire, most of the time against his will.

“It’s the law.” Castiel found himself saying. “We’re not allowed outside without some sort of scent block on. Most females use dilute stuff so alphas can still tell what they are, because being a female omega… well that’s a totally different story. Most girls are proud of their omega status and they like to flaunt it. But both genders are found responsible if they’re attacked and they weren’t scent blocking to some degree.”

“Sure, yeah. I run into omega girls all the time. They smell different from… from you guys, though. They all smell sort of the same, kind of sugary and sweet. I had no idea that was a law, though.”

“Yeah, well… men who can afford the strong scent blocking deodorant, they use it. It’s not… it’s not easy.” Castiel said, the biggest understatement he could have made. He doesn’t know how to describe it to Dean, what it’s like to grow up as an omega male. For a moment he doesn’t think he should, but then the silence drags on just enough to be awkward. “Some parents sell male omegas off when they’re old enough, so many don’t make it to high school. It’s illegal, but it happens a lot. Many reputable high schools won’t allow them in, anyway, because they’re ‘too much of a distraction’ for the alphas. Which, considering they have no problem with letting female omegas in… I don’t know. I don’t think it’s officially legal, but it’s pretty much condoned so it’s no wonder you didn’t meet many after grade school. Most of the male omegas I’ve met in my life ended up sold or working low level jobs after junior high.” Castiel shrugged. “Parents don’t see a lot of use in educating them, especially if you’re poor and you can’t afford strong scent blocking, then there’s very little chance you’ll be hired even if you get an education. Getting an education alone when you aren’t scent blocking strongly enough is basically impossible. You can expect to get attacked pretty frequently. I’m lucky my parents have money enough to afford decent scent blocking, really, or I wouldn’t be here.”

Dean stared at him in horror. Castiel tried not to be upset that Dean obviously hadn’t heard of any of this before. Of course he hadn’t, why would he? He was an alpha. The world was laid out before him. He didn’t have to concern himself with the lives of omega males.

“I knew that an alpha attack on an omega was legal if they weren’t scent blocking… but I had no idea life was that bad for male omegas.”

“You just thought we were rare?”

“Well, yeah. I mean… aren’t you?”

“Somewhat. The omega mutation is more uncommon in males than in females, about 10 omega females to 1 omega male, but there’s enough around that you would have noticed if they weren’t all in breeding farms or whore houses.”

Dean swallowed audibly and Castiel immediately regretted his blunt word choice. No taking it back now, though.

“Cas, I’m so sorry you have to deal with that.” Dean said, his voice very soft.

Castiel shrugged, trying to sound more nonchalant than he felt.

“I’m used to it. And I’m not in either yet, so… I can’t really complain.”

“Yet?” Dean’s voice shook as he stared at Castiel, a storm brewing in his beautiful emerald eyes.

“Yet.” Castiel confirmed, somewhat hopelessly. “I mean… I have dreams. I’m here, aren’t I? But I’m not completely unrealistic. No matter how hard I work, no matter what kind of grades I get… society doesn’t expect a lot out of me and it doesn’t want to give me a lot either.”

Dean didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Well, then, fuck ‘em.” Dean said finally, his voice coarse gravel and smooth hot chocolate all at once. “You got this far, didn’t you? You can get the rest of the way, Cas. I believe in you.”

There was something so beautiful in the way Dean said that, so earnest and sweet.

“Thank you, Dean, but I’m here mostly because I received a lot of help and got very lucky more than once. I didn’t fight my way here, by any means.”

“Fuck that, Cas.” Dean said, a little more agitated. “You don’t know how strong you are.”

“I’m not.” Castiel’s voice was rough sandpaper over his dry tongue. “I’m really quite useless.”

“Don’t.” Dean’s hand was on his shoulder, and Castiel was immediately sorry he made Dean’s expression twist in pain like that. He would take back whatever he said. Dean’s grip tightened and Castiel's heart flip flopped. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Ok.” Castiel agreed, nodding fervently. Whatever Dean wanted he would do if only to get him to stop looking at him like that. “Ok. I won’t, Dean. I’m sorry.”

They’d stopped walking without Castiel realizing it. Dean’s clear green eyes flicked between Castiel’s, really looking at him, and Castiel wanted to freeze that moment.

“I gotta go to class.” Dean sighed, almost reluctant. “Can we hang out this weekend?”

“Yes.” Castiel nodded before he could think about it. “What were you thinking?”

Dean blinked.

“I don’t know.” Dean laughed. “Whatever you want to do, Cas, we’ll do it. Or we can just make it up as we go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel can’t wait for the weekend. He gets to see Dean in class, but they mostly speak in rudimentary Japanese and try to avoid the teacher’s roving eyes. Dean is funny, very funny, and he makes Castiel laugh too hard at inappropriate times, earning angry glares from the teacher. Castiel will take it, though, take all of it if it means Dean keeps making stupid jokes just for him. 

Dean caught up to him after class on Friday, jogging to his side as Castiel escaped down the hallway.

“So can we do something tonight instead of tomorrow? I just broke up with Lisa yesterday… it’d be great if you could distract me.”

“Oh.” Castiel’s stomach clenched. “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Naw, I mean… it was mutual, really, but breakups suck no matter what.” Dean shrugged, and Castiel felt a sympathetic pang at the pain in Dean’s eyes.

“So what do you want to do? Pop a coupla beers? Watch a movie, maybe?”  
Castiel nodded.

“I want to do what you want to do, Cas.” Dean said softly, looking down at the ground instead of Castiel. Castiel’s heart fluttered at the sound of Dean’s gravelly voice in such a low timber.

“Sounds good to me. I mostly just read and play piano for fun, and both are kind of one-person activities. So, whatever you suggest.”

Dean asked him to catch the bus with him. Castiel agreed but had to drop his books off at his dorm.

“Cassie! Party tonight, you coming?”

Castiel groaned.

“No, thank god. Dean and I are going to watch a movie.” Castiel tucked his books away on a bookshelf above his bed. Dean leaned against the frame of the door while he waited for him.

“Just the two of you?” Gabe asked, looking up from his video game.

“Yup.” Dean nodded. “Hey, Cas, I’m gonna run to the bathroom while you’re getting your stuff together.”

“Sure.” Castiel agreed, though he had nothing else to ‘get together’. He sat down to watch Gabe play his game.

“Sounds like a date, Cassie.”

Castiel jolts.

“It’s not.”

“You sure?”

Castiel stares at him.

“It’s not.”

“Could be.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Alright. Just be careful. Do you need me to get you out of it?” Gabe looks up from his video game, eyes serious. 

“No.” Castiel says quickly. “No, Dean’s cool.”

“Are you sure?” Gabriel pauses his game. His full attention is on Castiel now and it makes Castiel’s stomach churn.

“Yes.” And Castiel means it for once. He trusts Dean. Dean is a good person.

“Don’t put yourself in a dangerous situation, Castiel.” Gabriel says. There’s a faint tone of pleading Castiel’s never heard there before.

“Believe me, Gabe. I don’t take chances.” Castiel says, his tone flat. “I’m sure.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter include sexual abuse, molestation (referenced), and a major PTSD episode. As always, please don't read if any of these are triggering for you.

Picking out a movie was fun. They argued over genre more than anything else, finally settling on sci-fi. Dean wanted to rent Star Wars. Castiel had seen it a thousand times. Doesn’t matter, Dean said, it’s  _fucking_   _Star Wars_. Castiel rolled his eyes and set it back on the shelf.

Gabriel’s words planted a permanent, nervous flutter in Castiel’s stomach, though, and Castiel wondered: is this a date? Dean was technically single and it was just the two of them. But it couldn’t be, there was nothing other than that to indicate it would be a date. Dean had never made any move toward him that would show sexual interest. A lifetime as an omega… he knew how to recognize that, at least.

They settled on Blade Runner, an old cult classic, which Dean agreed to because it had Harrison Ford in it and he still hadn’t moved on from Star Wars.

Sam was there when they got back to the apartment and Dean asked him if he wanted to join them for the movie. Castiel’s stomach sank a little because no, no it wasn’t a date. It definitely wasn’t a date.

Popcorn and pizza seemed to be the only thing the Winchesters digested in Castiel’s presence, so he offered to cook. Dean looked at him like he was some sort of magical creature and Sam hovered next to him, sniffing at the cooking and making little pleased sounds from time to time.

“Cas, can you move in? Dean burns eggs on a regular basis.”

There wasn’t much to work with in the fridge, so Castiel had figured as much.

“Your brother is a busy person.”

“That’s why you should move in. We have a spare room.” Sam pressed. Castiel glanced at him, amused, but didn’t answer. Living with two alphas, even if they were the nicest people Castiel had met in a long time, was pretty much out of the question for him.

“Oh, thank god it’s not Star Wars.” Sam sighed in relief when he heard the movie start.

Sam sat down at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, enraptured by the story already. Castiel had already seen it; he picked it so he could just watch Dean watch it.

“This dude is fricken’ awesome,” Dean yelled to Castiel, though his volume was unnecessary with a ten feet difference between them. “Deckard is a  _badass.”_

Castiel grinned as he sampled the sauce he was stirring. Tasted ok.

“Cas, this is basically Star Wars.” Sam frowned, though he didn’t sound too disappointed. Winchesters.

“I know.” Castiel winked at Sam. Sam looked flustered before he turned back to the movie. Castiel didn’t think he’d ever winked at someone before, but he was comfortable and happy and Dean was laughing at something and he felt like he was home. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt like he belonged.

“We got the one with the option for the Director’s Cut, right?” Castiel asked.

“Uh… Yes.” Dean replied, checking the DVD cover.

“Make sure we’re watching that version, otherwise the ending’s going to suck balls.”

“Sure.” Dean said, and there was laughter in his voice that prodded Castiel to ask,

“What?”

“You said, ‘suck balls’. It’s just… it’s kind of hilarious coming from you. You’re always so proper and formal.”

“Whatever.” Castiel said, straining out the pasta and pouring the creamy sauce he’d made over the top of it. Dean kept bags of frozen vegetables in the fridge so Castiel heated one of those up to serve on the side. Sam’s eyes grew to the size of his dinner plate as he took in the meal.

“This looks so good.”

“I’ll leave the recipe with Dean so he can make it for you sometime.” Castiel smiled, warmed by Sam’s enthusiasm. “It’s not hard to make.”

“He’ll screw it up. Best if you just move in.” Sam shook his head vigorously.

“Hey, twig. Shut it. I’m a fabulous cook.”

“You are not.”

“Alright, I’m not. But I can make a mean burger and don’t you deny it.” Dean shot his brother a look.

“He can. It’s the one thing he can cook. It’s delicious.” Sam admitted, a bit grudgingly.

“Damn straight.” Dean nodded, forking up some pasta. “Oh my god. Cas.”

The groan Dean makes goes straight down Castiel’s spine to his dick. Castiel licks his lips and tries not to watch Dean's expressions as he eats the pasta. He can’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on.

“Good?” Castiel asks faintly.

“So good.” Dean groans again. Castiel’s very glad there’s a counter between them to hide his completely inappropriate erection.

“Eat, Cas.” Sam urges.

If only to distract himself and hide his face, Castiel eats.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel desperately wishes he could avoid bathrooms altogether.

Sam’s waiting for him as he walks out of the Winchester bathroom and it scares the hell out of him. Sam’s sweet, and he doesn’t reek of alpha dominance when Castiel assesses him. There’s something alarming in his scent, though, that Castiel recognizes almost immediately: arousal. It twists his stomach and he thinks about ducking right back into the bathroom to throw up.

“I’m glad you came by, Cas.” Sam says, hazel eyes tracking Castiel’s skiddish movements. Castiel knows better than to run from an alpha who’s looking at him like that so he forces himself to stand still, to wait and see what Sam’s going to do before he reacts like a frightened animal.

“I enjoy spending time with you and your brother.” Castiel says carefully.

“Still got a crush on him?” Sam asks, his eyes a bit hooded, his voice quiet and soft.

Castiel doesn’t answer, but a shiver of nerves runs through him.

“What if I told you… he’s not the only Winchester you should consider an option?”

If Sam was aware of his omega status he wouldn’t be so coy. He would know Castiel could smell his arousal and he would get straight to the point. Unfortunately, and very fortunately, Sam doesn’t seem to have him pegged for an omega yet, and Castiel has no intention of alerting him to that fact. He could still get out of this with some measure of grace.

“I’m flattered, Sam, but I don’t think your brother would approve of our age difference, and his opinion means a great deal to me.” Castiel says, trying to keep his voice calm.

Sam doesn’t seem to have considered that. Even though he’s a genius, Sam is still a 16-year-old bundle of hormones stuck in a po-dunk town and Castiel is probably the closest thing he’s found to an intellectual equal. Aside from Charlie and Ash, who Castiel didn’t think Sam considered romantic options. Castiel couldn’t blame him for confusing relieved familiarity with attraction.

“He doesn’t have to know, Cas. We could keep it a secret.” Sam presses closer, his lips parting suggestively. The arousal in the air intensifies and Castiel’s stomach lurches even as his own body responds sexually against his will. Apparently secrets are sexy to Sam.

“You know just as well as I do how that would work out, Sam.” Castiel shakes his head. He’s trying to avoid shutting the kid down in a way that would sting, but he’s running out of options. 

“So it has to be him, huh?” Sam tilts his head, rejection starting to settle in. The arousal fades a bit and Castiel feels like he can actually breathe again. Castiel moves his eyes to his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I love talking to you, and I’m glad you find me pleasant to be around, but nothing’s going to happen between us. I hope you can still consider me a friend.” Castiel says carefully. If he alienates Sam he knows he will alienate Dean as well. He can sense how close they are. They are each other’s only family, how could they not be?

“Ok, Cas. Alright.” Sam sighs, frustrated. There’s nothing but disappointment and embarrassment in Castiel’s lungs now. “I get the picture.”

“I’m sorry.” Castiel whispers again, desperate for Sam to hear the sincerity in it.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to get in your way.” Sam says, somewhat bitterly, already starting to retreat down the hallway. “You can try. I’ve never known my brother to swing that way, though.”

Castiel took a second to catch his breath and slow his beating heart before he returned to the kitchen. Dean was still spread out on the couch watching the movie. Castiel finished the dishes and went to sit on the floor below him, leaning his back against the bottom of the couch.

“Sam just disappeared into his room without saying anything. Is something up?” Dean murmured from above him. Castiel tenses, turns to meet Dean’s gaze, and for a second he’s sure he knows what he and Sam talked about outside the bathroom.

“Maybe I shouldn’t come here anymore.” Castiel says, though his heart breaks a little at the idea of never returning to this warm, wonderful apartment. He chews on his lip to keep the tears at bay, trying to memorize the pleasant earth tones of the wall and the lumpy but pleasing shape of the couch in case he doesn’t get another chance.

“What?” Dean sits up on the couch, leaning closer to him. “Why would you say that? What happened?” Castiel can’t speak for a moment. Fear floods Dean’s scent and Dean and goes very tense, “Did Sam-“

“NO! God, no.” Castiel shakes his head vigorously. “No. He didn’t try anything. But I think he likes me and I think it hurts him to have me here.”

“Sammy? Really?” Dean mutters, sounding far more amused than Castiel thought the situation deserved. “A crush, huh?”  
“Looks like it.”

“Don’t worry about it. He’s sixteen. He’s met you, what, two times? I don’t think you’re exactly breaking his heart.” Dean grins, waving his hand and collapsing back against the couch. 

Castiel bites his lip harder, hoping Dean is correct.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam came out of his room eventually as the movie finished up and Castiel announced he should probably get home before it got too dark.

Dean tugged him into a hug Castiel wasn’t totally sure he was comfortable with as Castiel said goodbye at the door. It was nice though, and Dean smelled good, comforting and safe. 

Sam scoffs.

Castiel freezes in Dean’s arms and Dean pulls back, one hand lingering on Castiel’s arm.

“What’s the problem, twerp?”

“It’s so obvious.” Sam says, and Castiel feels a shudder of horror go through him at the derision in his voice. _Please don’t._

“What?” Dean asks, irritated with his brother’s purposefully vague answer.

“You. You’re so obvious.” Sam’s gaze slides from his brother’s face to Castiel, a snide smirk on his lips. “Cas, he clearly likes you back. Why do you think he broke up with Lisa so quickly?”

Castiel wants to move but he’s stuck to the ground watching Dean stiffen visibly mere inches in front of him. They are too close for comfort suddenly.

“Sam. That was really bratty.” Dean sounds shocked, taking a step back from Castiel, much to Castiel’s relief. He addresses Sam only, studiously ignoring Castiel for the moment.

“Yeah, well. I’m not perfect. You’re both welcome.” Sam shrugs, that same malicious smile still tickling his lips, and heads back into his room, leaving them to their horrible silence.

“Dean.” Castiel starts. He has to say something, anything, to break the suffocating quiet.

Dean’s magnetic green eyes are on him now and it’s a struggle not to meet them and keep his eyes on the floor.

“Dean, I’m sorry.” Castiel says to his shoes. 

“Was Sam lying? Do you… do you feel that way for me?”

Castiel squeezes his eyes closed, wishing he could disappear. Dean already took in his omega status and the fact that he was gay without even blinking. Could he really absorb another truth bomb and leave their relationship unblemished? 

Castiel’s never felt as brave as he does when he pulls his eyes off the floor and up to meet Dean’s.

“Yes.”

Dean looks at him, calm and steady, just how he always looks at him. Castiel thinks he might snap in two from the tension in his body if Dean doesn’t say something soon.

“May I?” Dean asks abruptly, brushing a hand over Castiel’s neck. Castiel doesn’t realize what he’s asking until Dean’s tugging him closer, a hand twisting in his hair to pull his head back and bare his neck. Castiel gasps as Dean leans into the curve of his neck and inhales deeply.

“I can scent it up close. It’s faint, but… oh, you smell so good.” Dean murmurs, his lips brushing Castiel’s skin. Castiel wants to move, wants to say anything, but he can’t. He waits, heart thudding in his ears, for Dean to finish scenting him. Then Castiel’s in his arms again, this time with a totally different meaning to the embrace, and Dean’s pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Want you so bad, Cas.” He whispers into his hair, his breath tickling Castiel’s ear. “Want to smell you. The real you. Want it everywhere.”

Castiel nods, his thoughts swimming in the sudden cloud of arousal all around him. He needs to give his alpha whatever he desires. He vaguely processes that he would normally be sick with the smell, but for some reason he only feels dizzyingly turned on. The magic of Dean Winchester.

Dean leans around him to shut the door decisively.

“You’re sleeping here tonight.” He murmurs in his ear as he pulls him even closer, his grip almost crushing. Possessive. Castiel shivers as Dean’s hands stroke down his back, his hips press into Castiel’s hips, firm and demanding. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Yes.” Castiel’s shaking, can’t believe his Dean wants him and he wants him now. _His_   _alpha_. Finally. His mate.

“Come on, Cas.” Dean brushes a kiss across his lips and Castiel freezes before he melts into it. He didn’t know kisses could feel like that. “Go get washed up. Want to smell you.” Dean orders, pressing fingertips into the indentations of Castiel’s hips and promising more.

Dean’s arousal is everywhere and it clouds Castiel’s thoughts with a thick haze of desire. Alpha, spicy sweet and hot, so hot, is all he can breathe. The omega in him longs to follow his command; it’s the only reason he can tear himself away from running his hands mindlessly along Dean’s hard, heated body and run to the bathroom.

Scent. Dean wants to scent him. He has to wash it all off, every careful barrier that protected him. As he washes himself the clean air of the bathroom clears away some of the omega fog in his head. Like a clock starting back up again after winding down, he can finally process the situation.

Shit, this is moving quickly.

Too quickly, Castiel thinks. They’re getting sucked into the alpha/omega dynamic, the most powerful sexual arousal known to humankind; the reason male omegas were forced into whore houses and female omegas were prized above beta females by alpha males. He’d forgotten what alpha arousal could do to him, flood his system until it overrode all coherent thoughts and he was left with nothing but the  _need_.

It’s fucking terrifying and Castiel has to get out of there. Now.

Castiel jumps when Dean’s hand hits the door. Dean is on the other side of the door, waiting.

“Come on Cas.” He whispers urgently. “Hurry.”

Castiel is frozen with water and soap on his neck, shirt tugged over his head to wash out his armpits. There’s no going back now- the scent-blocking cologne on his neck is gone and he can smell himself when he lifts his arms. Dean will be able to scent him under the door right now. Castiel knows better than to trust any alpha under the haze of an omega scent, even Dean.

Castiel really breaks down then, once he realizes he has no escape. He locks the door and backs away from it as far as he can go, stepping into the tub and pressing himself against the wall. Dean’s on the other side of the door, and… that’s that. Dean’s not going to leave and he’s not going to let Castiel leave until he’s had his way with him.

Castiel hears the whimper on his lips before the tears start to pour down his cheeks. He never wanted to be afraid of Dean like this. Why didn’t he just keep his stupid mouth shut, why didn’t he leave things the way they were? He was safe in his fantasy world, where Dean would never,  _could_  never, hurt him and he was just an abstract idea of  _home_  and  _mate_  and  _safe_. Why did he have to ruin it by trying to make it real? Nothing pure stayed that way in this horrible, painful world. Not when Dean couldn’t help himself… he was going to hurt Castiel, whether he wanted to or not.

“Cas? What’s wrong?” 

“Cas is still here?”

Shit. _Shit._ Now Bitter Winchester the Second was going to get sucked into this nightmare. He would scent Castiel and he would  _know_. Then there would be two alphas clambering to get their hands on him, two friends he would never be able to look at the same again. What would happen if they turned on each other? Fuck, he’s going to ruin their family with his fucking  _scent_.

Castiel can’t stop sobbing.

“Go back in your room, Sam. I mean it.” The low alpha growl in Dean’s voice sends a fresh wave of fear through Castiel and he sits down in the bathtub and curls in on himself, hugging his body to try to get the shaking to stop.

“Is Cas ok?”

“Room. Now. Please, just let me deal with this. Do not come out, no matter what.”

“Dean, you’re scaring me.”

“Trust me, Sam. This once, just this once, do what I say and don’t ask any questions.”

A long silence follows. Castiel can hear his sobs, knows he’s too loud and that Dean can hear them too, but he doesn’t care. He can’t care. He can’t think past the inevitable that when Dean makes him come out of the bathroom he’s going to hurt him and nothing Castiel says or does can stop it.

“Cas, I’m coming in.”

“It’s locked.” Castiel gasps, terrified. No, not in the bathroom. Not where Sam could see, could hear.

“I’ve got a key.”

“Please, no! I’ll come out. I’m coming. Just give me a second and I’ll come. Don’t do it in here.” Castiel cries, his voice ragged with fear. 

It’s silent. 

Castiel pulls himself together as best he can. He calms his shaking and waits until he’s no longer crying loudly, but he can’t stop the steady stream of tears. He can be quiet, though. He can be good. He doesn’t want Sam to know, so he can stay quiet.

He unlocks the door, his fingers trembling.

_Keep your eyes down. Don’t challenge. It’s goes quicker if you don’t challenge them._

“What’s wrong?” Dean has him in his arms, kissing the top of his head fervently and gathering him close. Oh, it feels  _nice_  again. He smells good, he smells like  _concern_  and  _distress,_ minty and tangy at the same time. The heat… but Castiel doesn’t want to. His body wants to, but he doesn’t.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s go to your bedroom.” 

“You’re crying, Cas.” But Dean leads him down the hallway and to his bedroom, locking the door behind them with a definitive click. Castiel swallows hard. There’s no escape. None. Castiel sways in Dean’s arms.

“I’m fine. You can do it. It’s ok.” He lets his eyes flutter closed, sinking into that headspace where he doesn’t have to think or feel. He can’t make Dean feel bad about something that isn’t his fault. It’s not really Dean, not his Dean. Maybe Castiel can even forgive him.

“Do what?” Dean asks, and he sounds legitimately confused at the statement, wiping tears off Castiel’s cheeks with his thumbs as he holds his face in his hands.

“Knot me.” Castiel says quietly, his voice shaking more than he would have hoped. 

Dean smells nice again and Castiel can retreat into the omega side of him that’s very attracted to Dean. The omega in him even wants to let Dean knot him. The omega has claimed Dean as his own, his mate. Maybe it won’t be that bad because it’s Dean and Dean is beautiful and sweet and somehow he smells like he cares.

“Son of a…” Dean is actually red when Castiel opens his eyes, lighting up his freckles. “Shit, no! I’m not going to force myself on you, Cas!”

“What?” Castiel blinks at him. This isn’t how this went. Castiel tried to stay quiet until they were done. Alphas couldn’t control themselves when omegas tempted them with their scent.

“Look, you smell great. I love it. I’ve never gotten to smell you before and it’s…. it’s amazing, seriously hot.” Dean looks shaken as he attempts a smile and backs away from him to sit on the bed a few feet away. “But I’m not going to do anything to you that you don’t want me to. Jesus.”

“Dean?” Castiel asks because it sounds like his Dean, it looks like his Dean, but it can’t be- alphas lost control, they couldn’t help themselves. They took and took until they were satisfied and then they turned back into humans when they were done. Somehow Dean had scented him, could smell him right now, and he was still Dean.

“Yeah, Cas. I’m right here.” Dean says, his voice unbearably soft and gentle. Castiel launches himself across the space between them and into Dean’s arms.

“Dean!” Castiel gasps, clutching him tightly, disbelieving. “You’re still you!”

“Yeah, I’m still me.” Dean breathes into his hair, stroking down his back in a soothing way. 

“Dean.”

“Before… when I said you have to stay here… I didn’t… I didn’t mean we have to have sex.” Dean sounds very uncomfortable. “Honestly, you can go if you want to. I was being kind of, uh, maybe coming on too strong. Sorry. You smelled so  _amazing_  and I just didn’t want to let you go. I really wanted to sleep with my nose buried in your neck, as pathetic as that sounds.”

“It’s not pathetic.” Castiel’s crying again and Dean’s wiping the tears from his cheeks, so gentle it hurts, his green eyes murky with concern. “It’s not. I want that too.”

“Sorry I scared you.” Dean whispers, still wiping tears from Castiel’s cheek.

“’s ok.”

“You’re beautiful.” Dean closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Castiel’s forehead and it’s heaven. It’s such heaven. His Dean didn’t leave. He’s still right here, calm and sweet, and he would never hurt him.

“I’m not. You are.” Castiel laughs, a wet laugh through his tears. 

Dean kisses him, soft and slow and so nice.

“I want to stay, Dean. Can I stay?” 

“Sure, Cas.” Dean wipes the last of his slowing tears from his face. “I have an undershirt and some pajama bottoms if you want.” Dean gets up to rifle around in a clothing drawer. “You have a preference?”  
“Can I… I want to sleep like this.” Castiel is still bare-chested and he realizs he left his shirt on the bathroom floor without a thought.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, his eyes roving over Castiel’s chest. “You sure you’re comfortable?”

“Yes.” Castiel feels a thousand times surer of himself than he had in the bathroom.

“It cool if I sleep the same?” Dean asks, tugging his own shirt over his head and oh.  _Oh._ Dean’s chest is a beautiful expanse of muscle and freckles and golden skin.

“Yes.” Castiel whispers, his breath quickening. “Oh, yes.”

Dean’s eyes flare and arousal spikes the air again. Castiel smells it and shrinks back unconsciously before he realizes what he’s doing. Dean takes a step away from him immediately, hands in the air.

“It’s ok.” He whispers, “It’s ok. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for your feelings. You have no control over your scent.” Castiel shakes his head, tears renewed because he can’t even smell Dean’s arousal without flipping shit. He cards both hands through his hair, rough and beyond frustrated with himself. “It’s just me, Dean. I’m fucked. I’m completely fucked up. I’m too broken for you.” 

“No.” Dean drops to his knees, bringing him much closer to Castiel than he had been. “Stop. You’re perfect. And strong. And I really think you’re beautiful, Cas.” Dean takes Castiel’s hands and rubs his cheek against them like a cat, marking him with his scent; claiming him. It’s the sign of a mate, a comforting gesture, and Castiel’s only ever seen it in the movies but watching Dean do it feels right deep in his bones. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, I told you.”

“But I am, Dean. You have no idea.” Castiel shook his head, feeling like the world was tilting on it’s axis. But that was a lie. Dean did know- he’d cried in his bathroom because he thought Dean was going to rape him, and he flinched away from just the smell of Dean wanting him yet somehow Dean still told him he was perfect. He could throw him out, reject him, confirm how broken and used up he really is, but instead he was looking at him steadily, confidently, with an impossible tenderness.

“Come on.” Dean pulled him to his feet. He slipped out of his jeans and climbed under the covers, holding the comforter open in an invitation for Castiel to do the same. Castiel pulled his jeans off and climbed in after him, enveloped in warmth and soft blankets. The smell of alpha filled his lungs, but this time it was comforting rather than arousing. Castiel didn’t know alpha scent could be comforting.

“How many times, Cas?” Dean has him in his arms when he asks. Castiel’s quickly relaxing into a near comatose state from the sheer pleasure of being held and stroked and nuzzled like this— it’s just so  _warm_ — but Dean’s question pulls some of the tension back into his body.

The bed sheets are coffee colored, sloping away into a valley of tiny mountains. Dean’s house is full of earth tones that calm Castiel’s incessant nerves.

 “Six.”

“God, I’m so sorry.” Dean sounds utterly heartbroken and Castiel finds it very comforting how sincere he is. He doesn’t say anything, because what can he say? It’s fine? It’s not. It’s in the past? Clearly it isn’t.

“How old?” It’s the question Castiel had been hoping he wouldn’t ask. He closes his eyes. He was going to have to tell him eventually.

“Nine.”

Dean draws a shuddering, broken breath and his arms tighten around Castiel’s body, pulling him closer until his heat is pressed tight into his back. Castiel can taste his misery in the air and he hates that he’s responsible for it. He never wants Dean to be sad, especially not for him.

“Who was it?”

“My uncle.”

Dean hisses at that.

“Please tell me he’s dead or locked up.” His voice shakes with anger and Castiel shivers, the omega in him pleased with how protective Dean is already.

“Not really. He’s retired in Florida and lives in a beach house with his wife. My parents didn’t want to report him because he’s still  _family_.”

A stunned silence.

“Fucking pervert. Family or not, he should be locked up.”

“Yeah.” Castiel agreed. He’s so warm and Dean feels so good skin to skin like this, arms holding him secure and tight to his chest while he buries his nose in the back of Castiel’s neck… he could fall asleep easily if they weren’t talking about such a topic.

“I’ll kill him.” Dean growls into his neck. Castiel stills. Dean means it- he can smell just how sincerely he means it.

“No, Dean. He can’t touch me now. I’m older and I can defend myself. I’ve done it before. No ones had… no ones knotted me in two years now, though some have tried.”  
“I’ll kill them all.” It’s said through gritted teeth. Anger courses through the air, hot and bitter and tangy like copper on Castiel’s tongue. So familiar, that smell.

“Dean, please. I can’t-” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Dean whimpers, and immediately the smell washes away under another wave of sorrow. Castiel can deal with the smell of sadness better than he can anger.

Dean holds him even tighter. If anyone else were to do so Castiel would find it constricting and terrifying, but Dean’s tight embrace just feels nice, if a little hard to breathe through. His alpha. _His_.

“I don’t ever want to hear you crying like that again. Made me feel so helpless.” Dean whispers it into Castiel’s neck, pressing a kiss there. Castiel closes his eyes. No. He would try not to. For Dean.


	4. Chapter 4

The light is beautiful. Castiel loves just watching Dean sleep, the rays of sunlight playing over his freckles and illuminating the gold in his hair. He almost doesn’t want him to wake up, but when he does eventually, Castiel gets to see his gorgeous, jade green eyes.

“Mmm. Morning.” Dean yawns, his voice edged in sleep.

“Morning.” Castiel whispers, awed.

“It’s a Saturday, right?” Dean asks, snuggling closer and nuzzling Castiel’s cheek. Castiel hums happily.

“Yeah.”

“I gotta work.” Dean mutters, sniffing at the air. “Jesus Christ, Cas. You smell so good. Didn’t think it was even possible for a human to smell like this.” He pulls Castiel’s arm above his head before Castiel knows what he’s doing. Dean presses his nose to Castiel’s armpit to inhale deeply, letting out a low moan that curls Castiel’s toes and sends a dizzying tingling through Castiel’s whole body. Castiel whimpers in pleasure and eagerly moves to bare himself more to Dean. Dean misinterprets his reaction and freezes.

“I’m sorry. That was so weird.”

“No… no, please. I like it.” Castiel squirms, naked skin sliding against naked skin. Dean relaxes and crawls up and over him to kiss him nice and slow. Castiel thinks Dean smells really wonderful too. For some reason the smell of alpha all around him didn’t make him tense, it just relaxed him and surrounded him in a cloud of comfort.  _Mate_ , he thinks.  _This is what ‘mate’ smells like._

“Would you like some breakfast?” Castiel asks, trailing a hand through Dean’s hair as he rests his cheek on his chest.

 “Yeah, of course. You gonna make it for me?”

“I am an omega.”  
Dean looks up at him at that, his mood darkening.

“Cas.”

“I was just joking.”  
“Not funny.”

“Right.” 

Dean kisses him, urgent and tender.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Ok.” 

Castiel got up and stretched, looking over the glorious image of Dean half naked with bedhead, before he pulled his jeans on and headed out into the hallway.

Dean and Sam had eggs in the fridge, so he quickly whipped up something scrambled and set the steaming plate on the counter for both of them.

“Cas?”

Sam’s hair stuck up every which way as he looked at him from his doorway.

“Morning, Sam.” Castiel replied quietly, still a little hurt from Sam’s underhanded tactic the night before.

“You slept over.” Sam surmised, dismayed. Castiel is suddenly very aware that he’s half naked and completely devoid of scent blocking.

“Yeah.” Castiel moves as far away from Sam as possible, but luckily Sam immediately retreats into his room and closes the door too hard. 

Dean wandered out shortly after, smiling when he saw Castiel putting away ingredients. 

“I think we should tell Sam.” Dean said.

“I think he’s figured it out.” Castiel murmured. Dean came closer and kissed him before wrapping his arms around his waist.

“About you being an omega.” Dean said, quieter. He rested his chin on Castiel’s shoulder.

“I don’t have any choice in the matter unless I leave right now. I didn’t bring my scent blockers, so there’s no way he won’t smell me when he really wakes up.”

“Look, I want you over here a lot. As much as possible, really. I don’t want to dodge around the scent thing, I don’t want you to have to hide. Sam’s a good kid.”

“Ok.”

Dean sat back as though he was surprised he wouldn’t have to fight Castiel on this.

“Really?”

“I slept with you all night and I was safe. I didn’t think that was possible. If you say Sam is safe, I believe you. He’s your brother.”

“I won’t ever put you in danger.” Dean whispered into his shoulder, planting a kiss there.

Castiel closed his eyes and sunk into the heat of Dean.

He twisted in his arms to kiss him gently before Dean disentangled them. He sat at the counter and started on the eggs. Castiel retrieved his shirt from the bathroom floor and pulled it over his head before he sat at the counter to eat with Dean. 

“What is that…?” Sam came out minutes later, hair brushed and eyes alert. “What the hell are you cooking? Smells delicious.”

Dean tenses next to him, his hand wrapping around Castiel’s wrist.

“Alright, so, that’s Cas you’re smelling and I might have to deck you if you say he smells ‘delicious’ again.”

“No way is that Cas.” Sam snorts. “It smells like sunshine and muffins and Christmas morning – ”

“Yeah.” Dean grunts, increasingly uncomfortable with the dreamy look on his brother’s face. “Yeah, Sam. All Cas, I assure you.”

Then it clicks.

“You’re an omega.”

Castiel nods. 

Sam stares wide-eyed at Castiel for a second.

“That’s what omega males smell like?”

“We all smell different.”

“Shit.”  
“Alright, settle down.” Dean insists, glowering at his brother.

“Shit.” Sam says again, eyes glazing over. He sways visibly. “Fuck.”

“Why don’t you sit in your room until you get a handle on yourself?” Dean ‘suggests’ in an iron voice. 

Sam doesn’t argue, just turns right around and returns to his room.

“I’ll bring him some eggs.” Dean huffed, still pissed.

“I’m sorry.” Castiel twisted his hands in his lap.

“You’re fine, Cas. He’ll get used to it. I kind of lost it too when I first scented you. Now I’m fine, though. Cool as a cucumber, right?” Dean flashed him a cocky grin.

“You can tell him I’ll keep my scent blockers here from now on.”

“Yeah, but he’s going to have to man up a little bit. I like the way you smell and I don’t want you to hide it.”

“Dean–”

“I’m not saying all the time… but sometimes.” Dean amended hastily.

“Alright.” Castiel agreed. “Sometimes.”

Dean checked his watch.

“I gotta get ready for work. Will you come over tonight?” Dean asked, his gorgeous green eyes watching Castiel with a neutral expression. No pressure there – it’s completely up to Castiel. Castiel felt faint, but in a good way, for once.

“Yes.”  
“Ok. I’ll see you then.” Dean leaned in for a kiss before he washed his plate and headed to his bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 

_“You got lucky, didn’t you?”_

Castiel rolled his eyes at Gabriel’s gleeful tone and shifted his phone to his shoulder so he could grip the bar and steady himself as the bus sped up from another stop.

“No. We just slept. It was nice.”

_“Pssh, lame. Make sure he puts out next time, Cassie.”_

“Shut up, Gabe.” Castiel groaned.

_“Thanks for texting me to let me know you’re ok, though. I was, uh, a little freaked. Next time don’t leave me hanging like that, you ass.”_

Understatement. Castiel had eventually woken up at 11 at night to the sound of his phone buzzing across the room only to find 4 missed calls from Gabe and a warning text that he was calling the police on Dean if Castiel didn’t respond within an hour.

“I won’t. Thanks for… thanks for worrying about me.” Castiel says a bit sheepishly. He hated it, but he was also grateful for it. If anything happened to him… Gabe had his back.

Dean did too now, it seemed.

 **Dean W:**   _You want me to bring anything home for dinner?_

Castiel grinned at the text.

_Just you._

A few minutes passed.

**Dean W:** _Roger that. But edible things. Like burgers or fries or sumthing._

Castiel swiped his card and exited the bus.

_You’re very edible._

**Dean W:** _Fuck :/._

_I’ll cook something._

**Dean W:** _I don’t want you to feel like you’re a housemaid. I can make dinner._

_I want to. I don’t have to work. I can at least cook for you when you worked all day._

**Dean W:** _I don’t know how to say no to that._

Castiel grinned, staring at his phone as he stood in the elevator of his dorm, trying to hide his giddy happiness as the other passengers looked at him sidelong.

_Then don’t. What do you want?_

**Dean W:** _I’ll eat whatev. I’m not picky babe. OH EXCEPT SALAD_

Babe. Dean called him  _babe_. Castiel shivered at that as he jammed his keys into the lock to his dorm.

There’s a group of people in their room when Castiel manages to jimmy the vaguely broken lock into compliance.

Castiel tenses immediately, sniffing the air for traces of his own scent, but he really can’t tell, not at low quantities. A girl and a bunch of guys. One alpha. Three betas, including Gabe. The girl’s an omega. Not really a threat.

Gabe threw something that hit another guy in the face. He scowled at Gabe, then returned his attention to the pretty blond girl sitting at Castiel’s desk chair. She masked even less than other omega girls Castiel had met, almost a dangerous amount of scent lighting up their dorm room. No wonder she had four guys practically drooling over her; even beta boys could smell her at that level.

Castiel had no idea where he should sit, every available surface taken already.

“I have to go to lunch.” She laughed, checking her fingernails. “I can’t keep playing around with you guys all day.”

“Lil, come help me with homework tonight. You’re way smarter than I am.” The alpha boy on the floor said, a whining quality to his voice.

“Yeah, that’s true.” She grinned teasingly, though there was enough of a sneer there that Castiel bristled for the poor guy. “Maybe. I promised Crowley that I’d help him with a project already.”

Castiel reaches for the door, backing up into it and hitting it with a noise that finally alerts Gabe to his presence.

“Where you off to, Cassie? Sorry, we can make room for you. Come sit.” Gabe scoots over on his bed and pats the space next to him.

Castiel shakes his head, keeping his eyes off the girl, though he can feel her watching him curiously.

“I’m going to the library,” Castiel mumbles, wrenching the door open and keeping his eyes down.

“On a Saturday?” Gabe calls as he shuts the door behind him.

He’s halfway down the hallway when he feels the hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, omega!”

Her smell is overpowering at this distance. There’s no way she’s at legal levels of scent blocking.

“Wow, you’re good. I can’t smell anything on you, but you look like an omega and act like one, to boot. Plus, your bed has that omega musk to it. The alpha boy thought you were just sleeping with one, and your roommate has your back there, but… I understand. It’s tough, having boys claw their way over each other to get at you all the time. I have to hold ‘em off with a stick sometimes,” she says easily, carelessly playing with her long blond curls.

“You have  _no idea_  what you’re talking about. Keep your voice down,” Castiel snarls, looking around the empty hallway. These doors are thin. Anyone sitting in the dorms next to them could hear her, she’s talking so loud. Her eyes flare and a delighted smile curls over her lips.

“Oooh, secrecy!” She lowers her voice to a mocking whisper. “How about this, pretty boy? I’ve got an offer for you.”

  
“Not interested.” Castiel tries to turn.

“You’ll listen or I’ll let it slip to your R.A. what you are, and I hear from a very reputable source that he likes omega boys.” Her voice is a snake-like hiss.

Castiel is trapped. He turns slowly on his heel, keeping his eyes down. 

“Introductions first,” she says, her expression shifting from dangerous back to sickeningly sweet. “I’m Lilith, and you are…?”

“Castiel,” Castiel says to the ground. “I’ve heard your offer already. I’m not interested.” Castiel repeats quietly, clenching his hands into fists at his side.

“Yeah? So you’ve met Crowley?” She grins, cocking her hip out in an arrogant posture as she looks him over. “Of course you have. Face like that? And he’s got the best snout in the county. He’s very good at recruiting.”  
“I don’t need it.” Castiel hates the way she pets his shirt like he’s some sort of dog she can play with before she shoots him to put him out of his misery.

“Of course you don’t, lover. Full scholarship, right? Gabe let slip. Quite the brain in that gorgeous head. Did Crowley tell you how much you could make a night working for us? You wouldn’t have to quit school. You could stay on as a student and still work part time. One night a week, even.”

“I don’t want to whore myself out.” Castiel can barely speak, he’s so disgusted. “Just leave me alone.”

“Listen to me, honey. You and me? We’re the same. You think we’re different, but we’re not. They want us for the same thing. It’s just that I’m worth much, much more than you.” She presses closer, giggling a little as she trails a hand down his cheek to run along his lips. “But you’re still worth quite a bit. _If_ you go through a house – don’t try to hook on your own, babe, believe me. That’s one way to land yourself in the hospital, or six feet under. You’ll be safe if you work through us, pinky promise. And you won’t have to negotiate your own prices, we do all the dirty work for you. Well… not all of it.” She laughs again.

“Please,” Castiel doesn’t want to beg, but he can’t listen to any more of this. He can’t hit her without getting suspended, and he doesn’t want her to out him to the whole floor, especially not to his R.A., “just leave me alone.”

“Baby, believe me. You’re going to end up hooking or making movies one way or another. They all do. Even the ones who make it this far… eventually they realize there’s no place for them in decent society. Nobody wants your opinion. Nobody cares how smart or how nice you are. You aren’t worth anything beyond your body and your smell. The sooner you realize it, the sooner you can profit from it instead of wasting your time with all this nonsense studying.”

Castiel is seeing red. His hands shake with the effort to restrain himself from pushing Lilith away from him. Her smell is disgusting now, rancid sweet like rotten apples: anger. She doesn’t show it, though.

“Ok, sweetie. I get it. But just think about it. Really think. And take this card.” She tucks her card into his pocket before she pats his cheek twice, condescending. “I’ll be stopping by again real soon to see how your brainstorming is coming.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nowhere is safe.

Castiel tries to study in the library, shuts himself in a locked study room and focuses on his homework. He can’t stop his hand from shaking, so he pops an anti-anxiety pill and waits. He hasn’t had to use one all semester, and he’s been so proud of that fact… but he needs to study now. It makes him drowsy. He drinks some tea, a mild boost of caffeine. He feels sick. Probably wasn’t supposed to mix those two.

He lays down on the floor of the study room and waits for his stomach to quit churning. It takes forever.

He doesn’t get nearly as much done as he needs to before he has to catch the bus to the grocery store. He picks up fresh vegetables and all the ingredients for enchiladas, trying to concentrate on planning dinner and nothing else.

Sam answers the door when he knocks.

“Cas,” Sam says, shifting in a nervous way.

“May I come in?” Castiel asks, keeping a few feet between them.

Sam looks like he wants to say something when Castiel sets the groceries down on the countertop and starts unpacking and preparing to cook. He wanders awkwardly to the couch and watches him for a few moments before he finally does.

“I’m really sorry I freaked out this morning.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it was rude of me, and so weird for you, probably. I’m sorry.”

“I would hardly call that a freak-out, Sam. You’re fine. I hope I don’t bother you by being here. I’ll keep my scent-blockers here in case it gets to be too much.”

“No!” Sam bursts out loudly. Castiel pauses at that— Sam’s face is the picture of shame. “No, I’m sorry I made you feel so unwelcome. I can deal with your smell, Cas, you don’t have to hide it all the time. It’s not even… you smell great, it’s not like I have to ‘deal’ with it…” The kid is babbling so Castiel takes pity on him.

“I understand.” They lapse into silence as Castiel mentally recites the recipe for enchiladas and starts popping open ingredients. Focus. 

Sam’s still looking at him miserably when Castiel looks up.

 “I was… I was just jealous. That’s why I… I’m sorry, Cas.” Sam chews his lip and casts his eyes to the ground.

“I know. It’s ok.” But it still feels nice to hear him apologize for it.

“If I had known… if I had known what you were, when I said that? I never would have.” Sam’s wide, puppy eyes are hard to stay mad at. “Was it my fault? That Dean found out? Was that my fault? Is that why you were… in the bathroom…?”

Castiel pauses, trying to piece together his halting conversation. A wave of humiliation hits him as he realizes Sam’s talking about his breakdown last night. He’d completely forgotten that Sam had witnessed that, distracted with thoughts of Lilith. 

“No, Dean already knew. I ‘freak out’ a little when I smell an alpha too, Sam. That’s all it was,” Castiel said quietly, busying himself with the food for an excuse to look away.

“Ok.” Sam seems to buy his shitty explanation, a breath of relief escaping his lips. “I felt awful when I realized. Sorry I was so rude to you this morning, too, in addition to freaking out over your scent. I’ve just been pretty awful overall, I think.”

“How about we start over? Right now, blank slate for both of us.”

“That sounds… really awesome.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Sam read on the couch while Castiel cooked, and finally Castiel felt some of the tension in his shoulders start to leak away. Not everywhere was dangerous. There was a lock on the door here, and Sam wouldn’t hurt him. Dean wouldn’t hurt him. Lilith didn’t know about this place.

Castiel could breathe again.

Castiel’s heart lurches when he hears Dean unlocking the door. Dean’s shoulders are hunched in exhaustion but his face lights up when he sees Castiel. Oh, that feels good. 

“Hey twerp,” Dean greets. Sam nods in acknowledgement. 

“Cas is making enchiladas,” he says without looking up from his book.  
“Did you apologize for your bratty behavior?” Dean asks, sounding more like a father than a brother.

“…Yes.” Sam is bright red.

“Good.”

“Sorry, Dean.” Sam flushes an even deeper red and Dean’s stern expression cracks a little.

“We’re cool if you’re cool with Cas.”

“We’re cool.” Sam smiles hesitantly in Castiel’s direction. Castiel nods, speechless that Dean’s status with his brother depends on his status with Castiel.

“Hey.” Dean kisses Castiel’s cheek and sniffs at the air. “I love Mexican food. Awesome.”

 “I’m trying to make squash too.” 

Dean wrinkles his nose.

“I guess I can deal with veggies if there’s enchiladas.”

“Shit.” Castiel realizes with a sinking feeling. “Shit, I forgot the cheese.” He slams his hands against the counter a little too hard.

“Are you serious?” Dean sounds amused. “Twerp, you want to run and get some for us?”

Sam looks like he wants to protest, but then he takes in Dean’s tired posture and sets his book down without another word. He grabs his wallet from his room and the keys to the apartment off the hook by the door before he leaves.

“I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“Not a big deal, Cas. Really.”

Castiel’s hand is shaking again.

“What a moronic thing to do. Fucking enchilada without cheese, how could I…”

“Hey.” Dean presses a hand to Castiel’s cheek and turns him to face to him. Dean’s so beautiful up close like this, all clear golden skin and plush lips, and Castiel feels weak in the knees. _My alpha. Mine._ “It’s fine, really.”

“I wanted to get it started cooking now so it would be done when the squash was ready to cook. They have to go in at different temperatures. Now it’ll all take forever,” Castiel whispers, losing track of why he’s upset. Dean is so… he’s so. Castiel doesn’t even have an adjective to describe how he feels when he sees Dean’s face.

“Cas. Relax. I’m not mad. Thank you for cooking in the first place. Anything you make will be better than what we usually eat around here, even if we have to wait a little longer. There’s chips; we can snack.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel whispers again. Dean’s eyes track slowly over his face, then down to his still shaking hand.  Castiel clenches his hand into a fist, but it’s too late; Dean’s seen it. His expression darkens.

“Something happened.”

Castiel doesn’t want to talk about it, but he doesn’t want to lie to Dean.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Dean sets the can of enchilada sauce Castiel just opened down on the counter and takes both his hands in his, leading him to the couch. He sits down and pulls Castiel down between his legs. Castiel’s enveloped in warmth and alpha as Dean wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close. 

“Tell me what happened.” Like all of Dean’s gentle orders, Castiel can’t resist answering truthfully. 

“Guy from school, that alpha who wanted to pimp me out… he’s got friends. This omega girl was in my room when I came back. She threatened to out me to the floor. Wants me to hook part time while I’m in school.”

Dean’s arms tighten around him and a low growl rumbles through his chest.

Anger coats Castiel’s lungs. He starts to squirm in Dean’s arms despite himself—he can’t argue with his instincts. Dean presses tighter at first, but then he lets him wiggle free. Castiel has to get up and walk far enough away from Dean so that clear air washes away the scent.

“Sorry. I can’t help it,” Dean says, his voice tight. “What a total bitch.”  
Castiel winces at that.

“Dean, do you know why that word became an insult in the first place?”

Dean tilts his head at him, confused, before all the color drains from his face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Dean stares at the floor.

“Everything. There’s always something to remind you,” Dean mutters. “Even I do it.”

“You didn’t mean to. The difference is that you won’t do it again.” Castiel sighs and walks back to Dean. He sits down between his legs and draws Dean’s arms around him, back where he belongs. Some of the anger leaks out of the air, tempered by regret, and Castiel can handle the scent if being close makes Dean feel less guilty.

“She was horrible. But… it’s over. What really scares me is… now she knows where I live.”

Dean’s as stiff as a washing board against his back. Distress. Distress overpowers everything else. A low whine surfaces from Castiel’s throat, very omega sounding, and he rubs his cheek against Dean’s on instinct, comforting. He paws at Dean’s shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of the stone statue now wrapped around him.

“Cas,” Dean chokes out eventually. Castiel rubs his cheek against Dean’s again, mewling in discomfort. He’s never acted quite like this before, but his alpha is in  _pain_ and it sets off every omega instinct in his body. “Cas, I can’t deal with that. I can’t sleep knowing you’re in danger in that room.”

“What… should I move?” Castiel hated moving. It had been such a hassle moving into the dorm the first time. Just the thought of moving again makes Castiel physically tired.

“Yes,” Dean says emphatically.

“Ugh. I guess you’re right.” He sighs, stroking a thumb over Dean’s hand. Some of the distress eases from Dean’s scent at that, which is a relief for Castiel’s strained nerves. 

“Get off that campus. You can’t have a roommate, not if they put you in danger all the time. With those people there… it’s a fucking organization, Cas. They must be hunting you down. You’ve barely been here for a month and they’ve already tracked you down twice.” Dean’s words are fast, panicked, and he presses them into Castiel’s hair.

“It’s a university policy that I have to stay on campus for the first year. I suppose I could get a single, but my scholarship won’t cover the extra cost and I don’t have any other money.”

“No, there’s ways around that dumb policy. I’m a freshman technically, but I don’t live on campus because I have to take care of Sammy. We can convince them you have ‘extenuating circumstances’ like me.”

Castiel twisted in Dean’s grip to look in his terrified green eyes. So scared, just for Castiel. They’d barely been dating 24 hours and already… but no. This was the strength of an alpha/omega bond. Castiel had heard of it, read about it in books, how powerful and instantaneous it was. Omegas drove the logic from alphas, and vice versa. Only the mate mattered. Yet another reason why omega males were such high-priced commodities on the black market, and female omegas were considered the most desirable mates by most alphas.

“Dean, I don’t think you’re thinking clearly,” Castiel whispered gently. He pawed at his cheek, trying to wake him up from the deep panic he was obviously in. Dean blinked and seemed to snap out of his head a little at Castiel’s touch. “I can’t move. Unless it’s the same price as my double room, I can’t live by myself. My scholarship won’t cover it. How many single rooms do you know of that are as cheap as the dorms? I’d be living in someone’s basement, with strangers above. That would be much worse, and much more dangerous, than living with Gabe in the dorms.”

“Move in here,” Dean says immediately. Castiel reels at that—are these words actually coming out of Dean’s mouth? “Look, I know it’s the  _definition_  of fast, but you can pay the same rent as you would if you lived there. We have an empty room. I’ll be able to work less if your scholarship helps with rent… and I can know you’re safe. I can be sure of it.”

Castiel can only stare at him. 

“What if you get tired of me?”

Dean’s eyebrows twist as his distress spikes again, flooding Castiel’s nostrils and choking him.

“Cas, what the fuck?” Dean whines, hands tightening convulsively on Castiel’s arms. “ _I am not going to get tired of you_.”

“We could break up, Dean. You don’t know that we won’t. It’s not easy to be around me, and not just because of my glowing personality and obvious issues.”

“We could.” Dean nods. He’s much calmer suddenly, and that steadies Castiel. Castiel’s used to Dean being levelheaded when Castiel typically isn’t. “But if it means anything, I really don’t think we will. I know it’s not much but… Cas, I’m into you. I’m really into you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I met you. Every day I look forward to Japanese class, even though I hate that asshole teacher, just because I get to talk to you for maybe ten minutes. I thank god that stupid class is five days a week, because it means I get to look at you all the time... and I know that sounds really creepy and, shit, I’m not great at the whole sharing feelings thing, but if you’re patient with me… I really, really want this to work. I want to be good to you. I don’t care about your ‘issues’, we can work through them together.”

“You  _are_  good to me.” Castiel’s going to cry again. He’s never been great at fighting his omega instincts-- he's a crybaby. On top of that, no one’s said anything so beautiful to him before. He rubs his face against Dean’s, and for once he’s glad he doesn’t have as much hair as a beta or an alpha because he likes the feel of just Dean’s stubble against his cheek. Dean moans in pleasure and scents him, drawing Castiel’s head back so he can run his nose along his neck. “Too good, Dean. I don’t deserve it.” Castiel closes his eyes and relaxes into the intimate gesture.

Dean kisses him and any remaining logical protests melt from Castiel’s thoughts.

“Ok. Ok I will.”

“Really?” Dean’s scent shifts dramatically, all traces of distress replaced with the smell of pleasure. 

“If it would really make you happy,” Castiel whispers against his neck. Dean’s embrace almost crushes him.

“It would, Cas. I’m very happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for all the support! Thank you to everyone who offered to beta, I've found some great betas now to make sure I don't use hyphens as dashes anymore ;D.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: references to sexual abuse, references to rape, major ptsd episode.

He and Dean get along surprisingly well as roommates. Dean gives Castiel a lot of space to begin with, and Castiel tries to do the same. They adjust to the new situation with caution and respect for each other, eventually learning the other’s habits and idiosyncrasies. Dean leaves his towels on the floor of the bathroom sometimes, and empty pizza boxes where Castiel often trips over then, but that’s ok — Castiel’s safe and he’s happy and he can sleep through the night, because not only does he have a lock on the apartment door, but Dean’s curled around him and everything smells like mate.

It wasn’t until after midterms, when Castiel’s managed to carve out high scores on his tests yet again, that he noticed anything was wrong with Dean. Dean showed up drunk from work several times, grabbing a beer with his coworkers before he caught the bus home. Castiel had to pull his shoes off and tuck him into bed.

He waited until the weekend to ask him about it, when he knew Dean has time to talk. 

“I’m an idiot.” He shrugged, popping his second beer of the night open. He definitely drank more when he was upset. Castiel took note of it and reminded himself to look for it in the future.

 “What? Dean, you’re very smart.”

“I’m not, Cas. I flunked two of my midterms. I’ve been doing homework, showing up to class… I’m just dumb. I’m thinking about maybe dropping out, focusing on what I know I can do before I take on debt I don’t need. I’m a pretty good mechanic.” His scent gave away his despondency, but he was Dean, so he was still trying to put a positive spin on it. 

Castiel was completely bewildered and a little pissed that Dean was talking about himself like this. 

“Let me see your tests.”

Dean dug them out of his backpack and Castiel combed through them.

“ _Japanese_ , Dean? You flunked this test?” Castiel could’t help the harsh note of incredulity.

Dean shrugged again.

“Told you I’m not smart.”

“You know this stuff. I don’t understand.” Castiel skimmed over the page, analyzing the test. “You’re missing vocab words and characters. Your grammar is spot on. Have you really been doing all your homework?”

“Most of the time. Sometimes I do it with the TV on.”

Castiel closed the test, his hand slapping the page.

“Sometimes?”

“What? It’s boring. I know most of it.” Dean shrank back and Castiel realized he was glaring at him. 

“I knew this would happen when you told me it was an ‘easy’ class. You’re bored and you’re not taking your homework seriously so you miss the small points and idiosyncracies the teacher tests on, which adds up to a lot of missing points with our teacher.”

“So you’re saying if I do my homework with more focus-“

“You have to focus  _every time_.” Castiel hit the test again for emphasis and Dean actually jumped, still looking bewildered and a bit intimidated. “ _Never_ let it be late,  _never_  miss an assignment, and  _always_  look at your feedback when you get it back. That’s why they give you feedback, Dean, that’s why your tuition is so expensive. You aren’t an idiot, you just don’t know how to study. That’s such an easy out, calling yourself stupid when you clearly aren’t.” Castiel fumed, crossing his hands in front of his chest.

“Wow, what a hard ass.” Dean laughed tentatively, scooting closer in a shy but flirty sort of way that threw Castiel completely off guard. “You gonna teach me then, Cas? Huh, Brain?” Dean asked, and his lips quirked up in the first real smile Castiel had seen all week. Castiel could smell relief edging his scent.

“Of course,” Castiel said, immediately softening to Dean’s uncharacteristic insecurity. He moved closer to meet him, crawling in between Dean’s legs so he could kiss him reassuringly. “If you believe that I’m smart, believe that you’re smart because I say so.”

“Alright.” There was an eye roll in his tone, but his smile returned genuine before he leaned in for another kiss. “I’m trusting you on that one.”

“You have the raw intelligence, Dean. You really just need to study more and study right,” Castiel repeated, fuming a bit again.

“I got it, I got it.” Dean kissed him to quell his rising voice.

They studied together from then on. Dean and Castiel took breaks cuddling and kissing, and somehow Dean still scored 20% higher on his next midterms, officially clearing him out of the red zone in his classes. Castiel scored a little lower — but not enough to make him regret it. He had managed to help Dean again, in his own way, and that was far more precious than a few percentage points on a test.

Jo still made Castiel hang out with her at least once a week. Officially, it was best friend mandated supervision. Unofficially, he liked hanging out with her and he was starting to suspect that she had warmed up to him, despite the warp speed of his relationship with Dean. Jo said Castiel was the quiet to Dean’s loud, but Castiel didn’t find Dean loud in the slightest. He was certainly more extroverted than Castiel — he liked to have friends over on the weekends to relax, whereas Castiel was just as happy reading or playing piano — but he also liked to sprawl out with Castiel on the bed and talk quietly about guilty pleasures and life philosophies when the people cleared out and it was just them.

  

* * *

 

 

Sex is a problem.

Dean does everything humanly possible to make Castiel think it isn’t a problem. He acts like it isn’t even on his radar; he never pushes, he never even talks about it. He just curls up next to Castiel every night and falls asleep with the scent of alpha contentment in the air.

But it’s a problem.

Castiel continues to masturbate on his own as he’s always done — twice a week to keep his sexual urges at bay, like routine maintenance. It feels emptier now, though, with the knowledge that his mate is available to him if he only had the guts to try. 

He’s never had much of an urge for sex. After his parents realized what his uncle was up to, they made him see a therapist. She took the opportunity to not only talk about the abuse Castiel suffered at the hands of his uncle, but the abuse he was likely to suffer throughout his life. She was a kind woman, and she'd written her dissertation on male omegas so she showed Castiel a lot of understanding and sympathy, possibly more than anyone else in his life before or since. She explained that sex might always be an issue for Castiel, that male omegas were attacked an average of thirty times in their lifetime and it wasn’t uncommon to associate fear with arousal after multiple instances of rape. She warned him that his sex drive might diminish to less than what would be average for his peers, and it might disappear altogether for periods after each abuse. She taught Castiel how to avoid high-risk situations and convinced his parents to put him in martial arts training so he could learn to defend himself. Castiel was piss poor at martial arts, but he was good enough for it to be worth the money his parents spent. 

Castiel can smell Dean’s arousal in the bathroom from time to time, so he knows that he takes care of himself, and far more often than Castiel feels the need to. Guilt hits him at random times, in class or at the library, when he thinks about how much Dean’s giving up to be with him in this largely platonic, pseudo-relationship. He remembers how touchy he had been with Lisa, and he could still hear Jo’s warning of ‘don’t fuck in my bedroom’ echo through his head when he tries to sleep…. they obviously couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Castiel has no doubt that Dean’s never been in this kind of relationship before, and he has no idea where Dean gets the restraint and understanding to put up with him. From Castiel’s perspective, he must be a saint or something not to have thrown up his hands yet.

Castiel decides he has to try. Dean has tried so hard for him and he can try for him too.

Castiel waits for finals to be over. It's been two months since Dean first invited him to sleep in his bed.

Dean comes home, shakes snow off his coat as he hangs it up, and tackles Castiel to the couch. 

“Passed all my classes.” He nuzzles his neck, breathing deep. Castiel’s still wearing scent blockers, but this close to his skin Dean can catch a taste. Castiel drops his book to the floor in favor of wrapping his arms around Dean’s warm body and tipping his head back to give Dean better access to his neck. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel murmurs, lowering his lips to find Dean’s. Dean happily complies, kissing him slow and languid before he jumps up abruptly, looking more energetic than Castiel had seen him in a long time.

“We’re celebrating this weekend! Sammy’s out of town with the speech and debate team and I told Jo to invite the whole crew over here. She’s bringing a shit ton of alcohol, apparently. Maybe some beer pong? It’s kinda gross, but it can be fun. Something. I gotta do  _something_  other than study and work. Anything.”

“Um.” Castiel’s stomach flutters. “Can I reserve Friday night?”

“Tomorrow?” Dean asks, his brow creasing. “Sure. What do you want to do?”

“Just us. I want it to be just us.”

“Sure, Cas. Want to rent a movie?”

“No.”

Dean glances over his shoulder at Castiel before pulling leftovers out of the fridge and scraping them into a microwaveable container.

“What do you want to do, then? Want to go out or something?” He prods, licking a bit of sauce off his thumb, “We could go ice skating. Bet I can kick your ass at hockey. It’s too cold to do much else at this point, though. Or we could grab dinner somewhere if you’re tired of cooking.”

“I want to stay in,” Castiel says, his heart pounding in his ears. 

Dean pops his food in the microwave and turns to lean against the counter. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and tilts his head at Castiel, his brow furrowed and his eyes searching.

“What do you want to do, Cas? You hate video games. There’s not much else in this tiny apartment.”

Castiel can’t say it. He picks at his nail beds, studiously avoiding Dean’s eyes.

Dean doesn’t say anything for a long time. The microwave lets out a loud, annoying ‘ping!’. He doesn’t make any move towards it.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low and quiet.

“No,” Castiel admits, chewing on the side of his cheek as nerves skitter through him. “But I want to try.”

“We don’t need to. We don’t ever need to if it’s too much,” Dean insists with surprising conviction, looking around the kitchen and shifting uncomfortably. Castiel almost whimpers for how much he loves him.

“I want to try.”

Dean looks down at the ground, and Castiel can hear him swallow in the stinging silence.

“I don’t want to hear you cry like that again, Cas,” He says, soft.

Cas chews his cheek until he tastes blood.

“I want to try, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel makes dinner for Dean when he gets home from work. It’s 6 in the afternoon, but it’s already dark outside, this deep into winter. Dean seems completely normal. He kisses Castiel, scents him (because Castiel’s not wearing scent blockers and Dean loves that), and sits down at the counter for dinner like he usually does.

He doesn’t act any different, though Castiel knows he can’t say the same for himself. He’s nervous and he can’t hide it. Dean pretends he isn’t, pretends he doesn’t see Castiel’s hand shake as he lifts the pasta to his lips. His easy conversation is the same as always; Bobby accidentally farted when he bent over to explain to a client what was wrong with their car, Castiel scolds him for making fun of his employer and teasing him about his age. It feels right, feels like usual.

Dean cleans up their plates and insists on doing the dishes. Castiel dries them and puts them away as Dean hands them to him. Dean laughs at the new mugs Castiel got — cartoon owls, one red and one blue.

“These look like they’re made for two-year olds.”

“They’re cute,” Castiel mutters, embarrassed.

“They’re  _matching_. Which one is mine?” Dean muses.

“Red one.”

“You’re blue?”

“Sam’s yellow.”

“Damn, there’s another one?” Dean digs around in the cabinet, laughing when he finds the mug. “You are not allowed to decorate the apartment.”

“Hey.” Castiel frowns. 

Dean’s hand drifts to his back, rubbing little circles into the small of his back. Castiel knows he’s sweating too much. They’re running out of things to do; it’s almost time to get to the part of their date they’d specially reserved the night for.

They finish the dishes and Dean pulls him into a gentle embrace, kissing him up against the counter. Castiel closes his eyes, finding that he’s concentrating on the act much more than he usually would.

“We’ll go slow,” Dean mumbles against his lips, his hands in his hair. “We can go as slow as you need.”

 “I’m ok,” Castiel says. He actually means it, to some degree. He’s nervous but… nothing feels quite like touching Dean. “Let’s go to your room. I like your bed best.”

 Dean leans back, calmly looking him over for a second. “Mmkay.” 

They lie down in Dean’s bed, and though they’ve laid in it several hundred times at this point, it feels different to Castiel; new and a little terrifying. 

Dean doesn’t try to touch him. They talk for an hour at least, until Castiel actually starts to feel sleepy, he’s so comfortable. He hasn’t forgotten, though; it’s always at the back of his mind, nagging him.

Castiel’s broken. He’s accepted that he’s never going to want anyone properly, never going to want sex quite the same as other people do. It feels like violence to him and he gets a bitter taste in his mouth when he even thinks about it. But it’s  _Dean_. His mate. His alpha. He wants to give him everything, including a  _real_  mate.

Castiel gathers every bit of bravery he has and pushes his hands under Dean’s shirt. 

Dean’s sentence dies in his mouth. He scoots a little closer and helps Castiel to pull his shirt off.

Castiel lets himself look Dean over, take in his toned chest and try to be aroused by it. Working as a mechanic is enough hard labor that Dean’s hardly lacking in muscle. Castiel wishes he could say the same about himself. He runs from time to time, not on a real schedule and more when he’s feeling antsy or he’s been cooped up studying for too long, but he’s not built by any means. Dean’s body is truly athletic, a real treat for the eyes. He should be aroused by it, but... Castiel just has to keep trying, though. He can’t give up yet before he’s really made an effort.

Dean waits for Castiel to give him the ok before he brings his hands to Castiel’s shirt.

Dean pulls it up slowly, his fingers tracing sensual lines up Castiel’s sides. Castiel closes his eyes to the feeling of Dean touching him, willing his body to respond.

Arousal bleeds into the air when Castiel’s shirt is gone, but it’s still not from him, despite his efforts. Fear seems to be the only thing he’s pumping out into the air. Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s cheek, stroking a thumb along his collarbone and whispering,

“It’s ok, baby. It’s ok.”

Castiel feels hopeless, but he keeps trying. He wants to want this. Dean’s giving him the control, and it’s something so foreign he doesn’t know what to do with it, but  _fuck,_  it feels good just to have it.

Castiel goes for Dean’s pants. Dean helps him with the button, lifts his hips for Castiel to pull them down over his legs. Dean kisses him, sweet and soft, as he helps Castiel with his own pants. Then they’re down to boxers, both of them.

Arousal thickens in the air when Dean presses his chest against Castiel, and Castiel’s heart lurches with hope when he realizes some of it is his own. Yes, he’s aroused too. Finally. He just had to stop thinking about it so hard. He wasn’t sure he was capable of it in intimate situations, and it’s a huge relief. What’s more, he can smell Dean’s arousal and not react with a gut sense of disgust, not anymore. Dean’s a twenty-year-old man and he smells like arousal quite frequently when he’s with Castiel. A few months of catching hints of it had attuned him to Dean’s particular scent, familiarized him to the specifics of his alpha’s smell. It finally smells good to him, finally smells like something he can want.

Castiel pushes a trembling hand under Dean’s boxers, finding his cock hard and ready for him.

He breaks the kiss. There’s a pressure building in his chest but Castiel doesn’t know what it is yet, whether it’s bad or good. He reaches down his cock, stroking along the shaft with tentative movements, and the strange sensation swells. Dean’s gasping, choked for Castiel’s touch for so long that even this meager effort affects him to an incredible extent. Oh, he’s been so patient with him.

Castiel grips and strokes. Dean’s mouth falls open in something like amazement, and he holds tight to Castiel’s hips as Castiel works him.

“Cas,” Dean croaks, resting his forehead against Castiel’s. “You ok?”

“I’m good.” Castiel nods. The sensation swells and… it’s amazing. It feels so  _good_. He can do this. He likes watching Dean coming apart under his hands, grasping at him and making little needy sounds. Castiel has the control, and Dean will take whatever Castiel gives because he loves him that much. Castiel actually laughs, a breathless, happy sound. So light. He feels so light. He hasn’t felt this light in years.

“Cas?” Dean’s eyes are glazed over with lust but his eyebrows twist in concern. He brings a hand to Castiel’s cheek. “You ok?”

“I… I like it, Dean. I didn’t know I could like it.”

There’s sadness in the air as Dean’s hand falls from his face. Castiel scoots closer, even though it brings his hand into an awkward position, and mewls softly as he presses his cheek to Dean’s, rubbing his scent into his mate.

“Don’t be sad,” Castiel whispers, feeling powerful for once in his life. He can fix this. He can make Dean feel better. “It’s good. It’s a good thing.”

“Right.” Castiel sees how much Dean struggles to pull a reassuring smile onto his face, but the sadness in his scent, salty like the ocean, recedes slow and sure. Dean’s cheeks are flushed a delicate pink under his freckles. Castiel speeds his pace until Dean’s eyes flutter closed and little moans start pushing their way out of his chest.

“Can you come for me, Dean?” Castiel whispers. Dean nods his head, a sweet, breathless smile tugging at the edges of his perfect mouth. “Come,” Castiel urges him, enraptured. Dean tenses a few moments later, spilling into Castiel’s hands and all over his boxers, his face caught in a silent groan of pleasure. 

He did that. He’s responsible for Dean’s pleasure.

Castiel’s heart pounds and he feels warm everywhere. He’s hot for Dean; he’s wet for him. He wants to take the knot he can feel pulsing against his fingertips, pushed deep into him. Castiel feels like a thousand little fears he’d pushed down and vowed never to think about again just suddenly disappear; he’s not as broken as he thought he was.

Dean pants, trying to catch his breath, his green eyes glassy when he opens them to look at Castiel. They both laugh a little, awkward and happy as they kiss and stroke at each other.

“You were so good, Cas,” Dean moans against his lips. “So good, baby. How you doin’?”

Castiel doesn’t realize he’s climbing on top of Dean until he’s there, and Dean’s looking up at him wide-eyed and stunned as he rubs his ass back against the puddle of wet on Dean’s boxers. Dean groans then, loud and long, closing his eyes as Castiel grinds into him.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, Cas,” Dean says. “Want to…” Dean stops himself, his eyes opening as uncertainty flickers through him.

“I want to.” Castiel breathes, enjoying the pleasant shivers rushing through him at every drag of friction between them.

“Can we take these off?” Dean asks, hands along the hem of his boxers. Castiel lifts his hips, but he has to roll off Dean to get them completely off. Dean’s hand is on his belly and he’s kissing him and Castiel’s so gloriously  _hard_ and _wet_.

“Cas…” Dean gasps into his mouth. “Cas, can I…?’ 

“Yes,” Castiel moans, pushing his hips up, desperate for friction. Dean’s hand drifts lower until it’s wrapped around Castiel’s dick, a gentle pressure that firms up as Castiel pushes himself hard into his grasp.

 “Dean…” Castiel whimpers, clutching blindly for him, and Dean draws closer, slings a leg over Castiel’s knees and presses his nose to Castiel’s neck, slowly stroking along his length.

 “I got you, Cas,” Dean whispers, kissing all along his collarbone as he strokes him. “Want to mate you, baby. Want to fill you up... breed you.”

Castiel shivers at the words, his stomach clenching at the implications.

“Yeah,” He agrees mindlessly. He’s hazy from the scent of arousal all around him, heady and musky like Dean usually smells, but multiplied by a thousand. “Breed me, Dean…”

Dean raises his head slowly, meeting Castiel’s eyes in a long, drawn-out evaluation. He’s gorgeous like this—all glassy green eyes and flushed cheeks, panting through parted, perfect lips. His dirty blond hair is a mess from Castiel’s touch, sticking up everywhere.

“…Can I? Really?”

“Yes,” Castiel hisses out. His terror still lives under the scent of Dean’s arousal somewhere and he can feel it rear it’s head as soon as he agrees to it, but Dean’s overpowering all that at the moment and Castiel’s all too happy to get lost in it. He doesn’t want to be afraid of this. He wants to fight it.

Castiel had told Dean he was on hormone suppressants so they didn’t have to worry about pregnancy, but talking about it was still awkwardly, yet undeniably, hot. He’d been tested for STIs after his last attack, and he made Dean get tested a month into seeing him simply because he never had before and Castiel knew how active Dean was sexually. Miraculously, they were both in the clear; nothing but Castiel standing in the way for them now.

Dean pulls his knees up, slow and careful, until Castiel’s bared to him. Castiel is a little stunned when he smells himself, really smells how much he wants Dean. Dean tilts his head back and breathes deep, his cheeks flushing deep red, and moans his approval. He rubs himself, hardening again already, all over Castiel’s wetness, their cocks tangling in easy slides as Castiel slicks him up. Dean looks like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his life and Castiel feels precious, wanted.

“I’m gonna-” Dean’s got both hands wrapped around Castiel’s thighs while gazes down at the valley between Castiel’s legs, panting with want. Castiel nods his head feverishly, and that’s all Dean needs.

When he slips in, it doesn’t hurt. Castiel’s wet enough that it’s an easy glide, connecting their heats with pressure. Castiel watches Dean as he does it because he’s starting to feel dizzy, his fear fighting to claw its way through the haze of alpha arousal lighting him up inside and Castiel has to push it back down by reassuring himself that it’s Dean doing it, Dean pushing into him and Dean would _never_ hurt him. 

“Oh my god, Cas.” Dean collapses against his chest when he bottoms out, and Castiel can feel how sweaty Dean is already, how hot. It must be the effect of Castiel’s scent because they haven’t done anything truly athletic. “Feels like heaven,” he mumbles against his chest.

“Dean.” Castiel’s flooded with warmth that’s electric like desire but soothing like mate, as he cards his hand through Dean’s messy hair.

“You ok?” Dean asks, sitting up on his elbows with what looks like considerable effort to kiss Castiel and scan his face. There’s no trace of fear in Castiel’s scent now so he knows Dean is just being extra cautious. 

Castiel nudges at him with his hips as a low whine slips from him. Move. He wants Dean to move. He wants his knot.

Dean’s eyes flare with desire and he complies, slowly pulling out and then pushing back in with a delicious friction that Castiel finds he loves. Dean’s eyes are closed and he breathes hard, running his nose along Castiel’s neck and behind his ear from time to time and letting out animalistic sounds that stir Castiel’s insides in the most pleasing, tingling way.

Dean never gets rough, never even approaches the pace Castiel has come to associate with alpha sex. It’s gentle from start to finish. Castiel worries that he’s holding back too much, that he won’t be able to come at the pace he’s going. Dean surprises him once more, and when he comes he moans Castiel’s name into his neck and bites at the skin there, just hard enough to mark him up. It’s beautiful, like everything Dean does.

Castiel comes to the feel of Dean stroking him through the aftermath of his orgasm. There are tears on his cheek but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed over them, not when Dean’s kissing them away and mumbling how much he loves Castiel into his cheek.

Dean loves him.

The knot continues to fill out while Dean strokes him to orgasm, the pressure growing and pressing on Castiel in all the right ways. Dean’s arousal bleeds out of the air, replaced with sated happiness, like warm apple cider. Castiel whispers that he loves Dean as his release spills out over his stomach and onto Dean’s hand. Yes, of course he loves him.

Dean’s knot swells to its full size and Castiel realizes they’re locked together. 

The terror fights its way up through the thinning cloud of Dean’s scent, spurred on by the knowledge that they’re going to be  _tied_  for at least an _hour_. No escape.

Castiel goes limp, his heartbeat speeds up, and his mind whites out. He can’t see, can’t really feel anything, but he thinks his eyes are still open. He’s trapped in his own body.

Castiel can vaguely feel the way he lifts off his chest when Dean sits up the moment Castiel's fear hits the air.

“Cas?” Dean asks, pressing his hands to the side of Castiel’s face. “Cas, please stay with me. Cas! What can I do?” Castiel hears him as though he’s submerged in water, murky and faint. Castiel manages to close his eyes, tries to fight it himself, but it’s Dean’s anxious petting and the pungent scent of distress that really brings him out of it. Dean  _cares_. Dean’s not going to tell him how worthless he is or rip out of him with excruciating pain. He’s going to hold him, warm and safe; he’s going to tell him that he loves him. Castiel doesn’t need to hide in himself to try to get through this hour. 

_Dean’s not going to hurt me._

Castiel manages to get control over his breathing.

“Baby, please. I don’t know what to do. Please, come back to me, please.” Dean’s hands are trembling on his shoulders when he emerges from the white blankness of his mind.

“It’s ok,” Castiel whispers, his lips finally moving. “It’s ok.”

Dean hugs him tight, shaking. Eventually Castiel regains control of his arms and he wraps them around Dean, rubbing his wonderfully damp back until his quivering diminishes.

“It’s ok,” He tells him, pressing his nose into his alpha’s trembling shoulder. “It’s ok.”

“Cas.” Dean lifts his head finally to kiss him in a desperate yet tentative way, brushing his hand through his hair. “Don’t leave me like that.”

“I won’t. I’m here,” Castiel says, running his hand along Dean’s cheek. Their hands meet and tangle, and Dean’s still shaking just like him. “Did I do ok? Other than just now.”

“You did so good, baby.” Dean presses a kiss to Cas’ neck, stroking his sides. “You were so brave. I could never be as brave as you.”

“Thank you for being patient with me Dean. I don’t deserve it.” Castiel’s crying again and he thinks maybe Dean’s crying too because his shoulder is wet and Dean is sniffing loudly.

“We can get through this. You’re going to get past this.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel couldn’t bear to go home for Christmas and be away from Dean, so he told his parents he was too sick to travel. His father let it pass without a complaint, but his mother argued. Castiel insisted that no, he’s really sick and he can’t make it, but maybe over spring break. Hester sounded disappointed, but she let him be.

Instead they gathered around a tiny, fake, 10-dollar Christmas tree in the living room of the apartment, where they’d all wrapped gifts for each other. Sam got him books. Dean got him the piano music he’d been staring at longingly that one time in the music store. He cried, which made him completely mortified, because he loved both gifts so much. Sam hugs him and thanks him for coming into their life. He  _thanks_ him. It makes Castiel cry harder.

Dean takes him into his mouth that night, and in a way he’s thanking Castiel too. He takes his time, does it right, and Castiel didn’t know anything could feel that good. It’s nothing like the violence of his past, it’s a quiet expression of reverence. Castiel comes with a shout and then nestles into Dean’s arms to sleep, still shaking but not nearly as much as a week ago. 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I completely forgot to include the scene where Jo chews out Castiel for moving in with Dean. I don't know how it got deleted from the chapter, but this is from right after Dean and Castiel decide to move in together: 
> 
> Since Castiel’s scholarship pays the same rent he would if he was living in a double dorm, Dean can cut back on his hours at the garage and spend that time on homework and Castiel. He gets Saturdays and Sundays to himself, and he says it’s all Castiel’s doing. Castiel is relieved that for once he’s helping someone by being in their life, rather than bringing more trouble than he’s worth. 
> 
> Jo pounces on him as he walks out of his biology class one day, slinging her arm through his and whispering in his ear in a very predatory way, 
> 
> “We need to talk.”
> 
> Castiel swallows hard and lets her direct him to a coffee shop just off campus where she orders a drink for him and then tells him where to sit. He would be a lot pissier over her ordering him around if he wasn’t terrified trying to figure out how she knew where he would be when he hadn’t even given Dean his class schedule yet. 
> 
> “So.” She says as she sets the hot chai tea that’s apparently his down in front of him and sits across the table from him. “You moved in with Dean. And started dating him. All in the same week.”
> 
> “Yes.” Castiel searches for more words but all he comes up with is silence, squirming under her level stare.
> 
> “As the best friend, I just have to ask-- are you full of shit?”
> 
> “No.” Castiel would laugh but she’s far too scary. Still, he can’t help but push the edge of snarky. “I thought you said you liked me.” 
> 
> Jo tilts her head at him, frustrated or angry or something Castiel can’t totally decipher. He hopes that he’s passing if this is some kind of test. Jo finishes her assessment of him and sighs heavily.
> 
> “Then you’re both full-on crazy. I’ve never seen him move this fast with anyone. Boy’s got a history of commitment issues. Not to mention… he likes boobs, alot, and you don’t seem to have any. You see where I’m concerned? I’m starting to suspect black magic at this point, no joke.” Jo leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. Castiel nervously twists a packet of sugar in his hands. 
> 
> “Dean didn’t tell you?”
> 
> “He said it was ‘complicated’, said he couldn’t talk about it without invading your privacy. So I came to you.” Jo shrugged, swirling her straw around in her black coffee. “You do realize that I have no problem invading your privacy if I’m worried my best friend is doing something monumentally stupid?”
> 
> The number of people who know about Castiel at this college is rapidly approaching far too many. Dean was one thing. Sam was another. Jo, though Dean loved her like a sister, Castiel didn’t know nearly well enough to entrust with his secret.  
> But Dean loved her like a sister.
> 
> “I’m an omega.” Castiel says, feeling far calmer than he thought he might. Jo sits straight up and somehow, impossibly, her gaze intensifies. 
> 
> “No shit.” She whispers. “You sure are pretty for a boy. Is that the girl side?”
> 
> Castiel’s irked by her blunt comment, but technically she’s right. 
> 
> “I do have more female hormones than typical of a male, yes.” He says, trying not to sound pissed because yes, she still intimidates him. “I also have male hormones and body parts.”
> 
> “Ok, whatever, I could do without the science lesson. I don’t really care what you are, I just want to know what it has to do with the two of you and your shotgun marriage?”
> 
> “We aren’t getting married.”
> 
> “Dude, you’re moving in together and dating and it’s basically marriage, ok?” Jo huffs. “Get to the punch line already.” 
> 
> “I’ve recently been targeted at my dorm because of my omega status, and Dean seems to think I’m not safe. I can’t afford to live anywhere else.”
> 
> Jo sips noisily from her drink, narrowing her eyes at him. 
> 
> “Of course he’s being a protective little shit, I should have guessed it. Alright, well that sounds like Dean. Makes a lot more sense now.” Jo shakes her head, sipping loudly at her drink again. Her hawk eyes catch Castiel as he goes to stand up. “Cas, you and me? We’re going to be good friends, whether you like it or not. I gotta keep an eye on you if you two are so determined to dive into the deep end of the crazy pool together.”
> 
> Castiel can’t even bring himself to be irritated with her when he can see the genuine concern in every action. She loves Dean. 
> 
> “I’m glad he has a friend like you, Jo. I hope I can earn your trust eventually.”

 Kevin and Charlie’s joint 18th birthday party rolled around after Christmas, after everyone returned from break but school hadn’t started up yet.

They were both little shits, running around, throwing homemade birthday cake at each other, and getting Jo’s dorm completely wrecked. Garth was covered in icing within thirty minutes of them blowing out the candles, and Ash got way too sloshed for 2:00 in the afternoon.

“Ok, I made you two losers a scavenger hunt!” 

“Yes!” Charlie jumped to snatch the piece of paper from Jo’s outstretched hands. Kevin rested his head against his hands and despondently sipped at his beer.

“Ash! Garth! We require wheels! Sex shop is stop number one!”

“And the final stop,” Dean muttered in Castiel’s ear. “What the fuck else can you do when you turn eighteen? If they start watching porn I’m leaving.”

“I’ll go with you,” Castiel agreed. He ducked out of Dean’s arms to check the list over Charlie’s shoulder, curious. 

“Rent porn, buy a vibrator, fake knot, genital shaped food? Ugh. ”

“I’ve had a vibrator since I was old enough to hack Ebay. Please, woman. I truly hope that fake knot is for Kev over there because, hello? Alpha chick. I make my own knots.”

“Yeah, I’m not into that,” Kevin said warily, eyes wide. “I like my sex toys girl shaped, thanks. And not _sex toys_. Can I skip this part?”

“Maybe you’re buying  _me_  a fake knot, huh? Don’t question the list, minions. Also, not a chance in hell, Kev.” Jo grinned. Kevin decided drinking more was probably his best option for getting through the day.

The sex shop was brightly colored. Castiel had expected it to be dark and ominous, for some reason. The inside was full of things Castiel had never seen before and didn’t wish to see again. Dean held tight to his hand, keeping him close.

The lady behind the front desk popped her bubblegum and seemed to be reading an upside-down magazine about tattoos. She didn’t look up when they entered, but her sandy haired coworker immediately took note of how young everyone seemed and very politely asked to see their I.D.s. Grumbling, they all dug their wallets out. Charlie was the only one who looked incredibly pleased to present her I.D.

“I’m more legal than your grandma’s porn habits.” She winked. The boy nodded, blushing faintly, not entirely sure how to deal with her. His nametag read ‘Samandriel’ and he looked young enough to be carded himself. Castiel felt like he’d seen him before, and the sight of him prompted a strange twinge in his gut.

Dean just nodded in his direction, not bothering to dig his wallet out. Samandriel looked between Castiel and Dean nervously, then decided against asking again. Castiel caught on to his nervous look and hurried to pull his own wallet out. Dean still made no move to do so.

“Meg?” Samandriel muttered to the lady with the magazine, eyes nervously fluttering to Dean. “Customers.”

“Yo, Dean-o.” The dark-haired woman behind the desk called out without lifting her eyes from her magazine. 

“Meg.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head as if out of shame. 

“You know her?” Castiel asked in a low whisper.

“Yup. Dean here’s a regular.” Meg finally dropped her magazine to her lap, her lips curled in a sly grin as she took in Castiel. “Didn’t you know that, Jailbait?”

Castiel slammed his I.D. down on the counter right in front of her, sliding it toward her in a challenge. He hated this girl already.

Charlie looped her arms in Kevin’s and Garth’s arms and tugged them away, whispering something about avoiding a lover’s spat. Jo and Ash seemed to disappear quickly as well.

“Come on, Cas. It doesn’t matter,” Dean mumbled, pulling at their attached hands.

“19, huh? Kind of a baby face. Dean-o, what are you doing bringing a baby faced little angel like him here? Corrupting his innocence?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes in a glare, shifting to put himself between this horrible girl and his mate. She smelled like alpha. Of course.

“Let’s look around, Cas,” Dean insisted, tugging on Castiel’s hand again. Castiel kept his glare going as Meg raised one eyebrow in amusement. 

Castiel wandered through the store, letting Dean lead him and avoiding looking at anything for too long. He kept his hand in Dean’s, but it felt clammy. 

“Are you really a regular here Dean?” He asked finally. Dean was pretending to be interested in an arrangement of brightly colored butt plugs, but Castiel could smell how nervous Meg had made him.

“Of course not, I came in twice. She’s just messing with you. She does that. I think she gets bored.”

Castiel was somewhat subdued by that low number, but still irked that Dean hadn’t shown him any of his apparent myriad of sex toys. Sure, Castiel had… issues, to put it lightly, but now he felt like Dean was hiding part of himself away. They’d gotten better at sex since that first time — both of them could now make it to the end without crying, much to their relief.

“You’ve never shown me,” Castiel said quietly, staring blankly at a wall full of fake knots. Some inflated when you pressed a button. Some had timers so you couldn’t unknot yourself even if you wanted. 

“Oh, come on Cas. Don’t be like that. It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to get you used to normal, non-kinky sex before I sprung my weird stuff on you.”

“What kind of weird?” Castiel asked petulantly, earning a look of pure frustration from Dean.

“Look, I’ll show you when we get home, ok? Promise. Can we just drop it for now?”

“Can I help you find anything?” Samandriel looked ridiculous, pairing a big welcoming smile and kind eyes with a hat that had the store name, Wiener Hut, printed across the front. His bright red, striped shirt and tie were equally ridiculous. Castiel felt that weird twinge in his gut when he made his presence known.

“Nah, we’re good. More here for our friends,” Dean explained with an easy wave.

“You’re an omega,” Castiel said before he could stop himself, finally realizing what that twinge was. “But you’re scent blocking like you’re at least middle class. What are you doing working here?”

Samandriel flushed, but then he sized up Castiel the same way Castiel had sized him up and relaxed. He glanced nervously at Dean before shrugging.

“Had a falling out with my parents. This is one of the few places that will hire me where I don’t have to--”

“Yeah. Right.” Castiel nodded quickly in understanding. “But you’re passing. Surely you could get a job in an office or something. It wouldn’t pay great, but this is high risk. You shouldn’t be here if you can afford not to be.” Castiel couldn’t think of one reason a passing omega would willingly work in a sex shop where horny alphas would be a daily occurrence.

“Scent blocking is expensive. I’m on my last stick.” Samandriel shrugged. “I won’t be able to afford the good stuff even with an office job, so they’d fire me anyway when I ran out and they realized. I opted for shooting low, but not too low, if you know what I mean?” Samandriel still had something pure and innocent in him, making jokes like that. Castiel hoped he held onto it.

“Right,” Castiel muttered. He felt like he was looking at himself, or what he could be, and the world seemed to tilt. On impulse, he pulled a random business card from his wallet and grabbed a fifty-cent penis pen from a rack nearby, scrawling his number down on the back of the card. He handed it to Samandriel. 

“Look, I’m not rich, but I can spare an extra stick of pretty decent scent block if you find yourself in a tight spot.”

Samandriel took the card from him hesitantly. He smiled, his bright blue eyes lighting up to make him the picture of innocence, penis shirt and all.

“Thank you. I haven’t met any other— in a long time.”

“I know. Me too.” Castiel smiled back. “I’m Castiel.”

“Samandriel.” He gestured to his nametag. “Obviously,” he said with an awkward laugh and looked down, eyes shining. “Well. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with. Just a word of advice? Avoid that corner. It’s full of omega fetish stuff, and…yeah. I don’t personally like to look at it and I’m guessing you won’t either.”

“We will. Thanks.” Castiel muttered. Samandriel retreated to the island-like desk in the middle of the store, waving at Castiel as he did like the sweet dork he obviously was.

“You ok?” Dean slung an arm over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Distress was in the air again. 

Castiel hummed, drawing closer to Dean. So warm, so safe.

He couldn’t help childishly flipping Meg off as they left the store. She quirked her eyebrow in interest and her sly smile spread into an all-out grin.

“See you soon, Clarence,” She said loudly as they opened the doors to the outside, Charlie and Kevin both toting bags that Castiel didn’t want to look into. “Gotta keep up with that stud alpha of yours.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel never asked Dean why they lived in that little apartment alone, or why they had nowhere else to be for Christmas. Thanksgiving was spent at Jo and Ellen’s, but even they visited relatives at Christmas.

Once a month, Dean got a letter in the mail, opened it and then set it down to stare at the counter for several moments. Castiel just knew that it had something to do with why Dean didn’t have to pay for Sam’s living expenses, and he wanted so badly to ask, but he never did. He knew Dean would tell him sooner or later. He just had to be patient.

School started up again and Castiel was glad for the distraction. He’d shadowed a doctor over the month-long break and volunteered with a free clinic. The doctor put the pieces together eventually, since he was a doctor, after all, and Castiel was a pretty typical omega with his feminine looks. By week two he was dropping hints like, “Are you sure this is the field you want to attempt to go into?” and, “Medicine is tough enough without a lot of personal liability following you around.” Castiel wanted to ask him what the fuck he meant by ‘personal liability’. Was he liable for the actions of everyone around him because he was born a certain gender? “The world is a tough, unfair place,” was all he could get out of him when he, very politely, asked him to clarify.

Dean held him when he felt particularly depressed after returning from shadowing one day.

“He’s an old, white, asshole alpha and he thinks like one.”

“You will be too someday, Dean. Minus the asshole part. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I should just accept my place in life.” Castiel curled up tighter in his arms.

“Things are changing, Cas. Sam tells me about new laws they’re considering every day. Did you know that Congress is looking at a bill that would allow us to get legally married? It wouldn’t be that fucking ownership contract where alphas claim male omegas as goddamn property. They can fucking  _own_ multiple male omegas. Legally. How do people not realize how sick that is? How can they not pass it?”

“Dean,” Castiel groaned. It was nothing he didn’t already know, and it was painful to even think about. Male omegas were barely considered humans from a legal standpoint. 

“My point is, we could have a  _real_ marriage. We could get  _married_ , baby.”

“It hasn’t been passed yet.” Castiel closed his eyes and felt his body go slack. Dean sounded so hopeful, but Castiel knew better than to hope. “And that same Congress is filled with old, white, male alphas with old, white, male alpha beliefs just like this doctor I’m shadowing.”

“There’s some women in there.”

“Barely. And they’re all alpha and beta. Omegas never make it that high up, Dean. Just like me. I’m never going to get into medical school.” His voice cracked. “It doesn’t matter how high I score, they’ll never let me in.”

“Baby, you’re here on a full scholarship. Don’t tell me you can’t get into medical school, because I don’t believe you.”

“Because I  _lied_ , Dean. I told them I was a beta.”

“Then lie to those dicks too and then show them what you’re worth. Make them regret ever doubting what you were capable of based on your fucking status.” Dean hissed vehemently. “Don’t give up, Cas. Not because of this.” Castiel sighed. Dean simply didn’t know what it was like to feel as though even though you tried your best, even if you  _were_  the best, you’d never get where you wanted to go. Dean got into college with a GED— if he was an omega, he’d be in a breeding farm right now, where rich men could rent out his uterus for growing their demon spawn. 

Dean seemed to think for a moment, his eyebrows twisting in confusion. “You’re signed up as an omega at school, though. That Dean of Housing or whatever her title was totally fine with moving you out of the dorms because of it.”

“Yeah, I had to give them copies of my driver’s license and birth certificate, so I couldn’t lie in my application. That’s why I didn’t apply to better schools, because they rarely let omegas in and I’m pretty sure I have zero chance of a full scholarship at any of them. Even now, if the scholarship committee ever wised up to my omega status and actually communicated with the school I wouldn’t be surprised if they took my scholarship away. Then what would I do?”

Dean was quiet.

“Look, they can’t. I won’t let it happen.”

Castiel warmed at the alpha gruff in his voice and the way he nuzzled his neck comfortingly as he said that. There was no possible way he could keep that promise, but he loved him for making it anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Not all of the break was bad. Castiel was on a type of hormone suppressant that could delay his heats for up to four months and then force him to suffer through one massive, week-long heat. He always tried to time his heats so that he didn’t have to miss school or anything important. His normal heats were 3 days per month, but he liked to do them all in one chunk since people were less likely to suspect him if he missed a week of his life once in a while instead of once a month. Usually he spent the week of his heat holed up with an ice pack under his ass, while he hallucinated his past abuses and tried desperately not to touch himself, hating himself when he eventually lost the battle with his self-control.

Heat with Dean, though, was indescribable.

It started out with Castiel feeling too embarrassed to talk about it and locking himself in his bedroom with enough food and water stockpiled to last a week. Dean could still smell him under the door, and he charmed his way into the room easily, despite Castiel’s determination not to cave to his sly manipulations. When he realized what Castiel was up to, he sent Sammy to stay with Jo for the week.

Dean still had to work, but they had more sex in that week than Castiel had previously thought he was physically capable of. He overcame his aversion to rough sex within the first day. Dean found Castiel’s complete loss of control ‘totally awesome’, and for once, Castiel didn’t find himself in a spiral of depression and self-loathing as the week came to a close. He just loved Dean even more. Except now he loved him with his back against the bed, boneless with exhaustion, but still sighing encouragement to Castiel as he rode him to another climax.

Things were good. Excellent, even, for a little while.

  

* * *

 

 

Dean began to drink more as school started again. Dean didn’t really talk about his feelings— he drank when he was sad and partied when he was happy. It made it easy for Castiel to know what he was feeling, but extremely difficult to approach him about why he was feeling it. He had no idea how to coax something out of someone who so adamantly insisted they didn’t want to talk. Instead, he went to Sam for information.

“Oh.” Sam leaned against the door heavily when Castiel brought it up. He seemed to deflate where he stood and his hazel eyes lowered with sadness. “It’s here already.”

“What’s here?” Castiel asked quietly, dreading his answer. 

“The anniversary of dad’s death.”

Castiel shuts his mouth before it can fall open. He doesn’t know how to ask, but luckily, Sam sighs and continues,

“He was driving Dean to something. Car T-boned them on the ice. Dean made it out with bruises, a broken arm and whiplash in his neck. Dad was— he didn’t—. Dean’s always blamed himself. Last year… it was the only time I’ve ever seen Dean get into real trouble. He got arrested for disorderly conduct— I think he got into a fight with a police officer. Ellen had to pick him up from jail.”

Castiel has to sit down. This is much worse than he’d thought it would be.

“The checks Dean gets in the mail to pay for you?” Castiel asks.

“Life insurance and Social Security. Dad was in the Air Force, and the military does a pretty good job of covering for you if you die. Dean was never covered since he was eighteen when it happened. He just had to start working right away. He dropped out of high school mere months before he would have gotten his degree.”

“Oh, god.” Castiel shakes his head. “That’s horrible, Sam.”

Sam looks at him steadily.

“Life happens.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam’s asleep when Dean comes home several nights later. Castiel is sitting on the couch reading and he hears him coming up the stairs. It sounds like he’s hitting the walls every other step. When Castiel opens the door to see where all the noise is coming from, Dean’s standing there, swaying on the spot.

“Cas,” he says, lurching forward. Castiel catches him, but only barely. Dean’s very solid and bigger than Castiel, but they manage to stay up. Dean stumbles forward, barely making it to the couch in a half-fall, half-walk.

“Oh, Dean.” Castiel starts heating up water for ramen. He grabs a glass of water and helps Dean drink. “I hope you don’t have to work in the morning because there’s no way you’ll make it.”

“Couldn’t help him, Cas. He was bleeding so much… so much.” Castiel’s never seen Dean look so utterly lost before. “I tried. I tried to, but it crushed ‘im in, Cas.”

“Shhhh…” Castiel soothes, pulling Dean’s head into his chest and kissing whatever he can reach. “It’s ok.” Usually Dean doesn’t talk about his feelings or his past, unless it’s telling anecdotes about pranking Sam or his short, but apparently fun, stint on the wrestling team in high school. He's always so positive and cheerful. 

“Why’d I 'ave to do that, Cas? My fault. ‘s my fault. Didn’t mean to. So much blood… then he was just gone.”

Castiel holds Dean tighter, completely at a loss as to what to say or do. “Drink some more water.”

“Don’t leave me, Cas.” Dean gasps out as he recoils from the water Castiel holds to his lips, spilling water down his shirt. “Can’t be alone again, can’t… can’t do it. Need you, Cas. Don’t leave me.” Dean grabs at Castiel’s shirt in messy movements. Castiel gently presses his hands to his chest, letting him take purchase of the cloth there.

“I won’t leave you, Dean.” Castiel says, stricken. “Why would you even say that?”

“I was so alone.” Dean rubs the fabric of Castiel’s shirt between his fingers, seemingly fascinated with it, scooting closer in a desperate, heated movement. Castiel pulls him back into a tight embrace, kissing the side of his head. “Then you came an' everything felt good like it hadn’t in forever. You just get it, Cas. You get when everything goes to complete shit, to have no control over anything.”

“Yes.” Castiel almost laughed, but it would have been hollow and unhelpful. “But we have to count our blessings. You’re here. You’re alive. You’re in school. Sammy’s healthy and on track for his education. We found each other. Maybe if our lives had gone perfectly, you would have gone to a different school, a better school, and we never would have met.” Castiel feels like it’s true, too. There wasn’t a lot that could make him feel like his life was worth it, even the most painful parts of it, but Dean could. He was worth it all.

Dean’s eyes are unfocused as Castiel lays his head down on his lap and combs his hand through his hair, trying to soothe some of the distress from his scent.

“You’re like the sun,” Dean slurs, looking up at Castiel in a dazed sort of way. His voice is a low whisper. “My sun. So bright, can’t see anything else. Since I met you, everything just started to revolve around you. I’m like those dumb flowers, they’re tall as shit, you know what I’m talking about?" Dean waves his hand in the air, accidentally knocking Castiel in the shoulder, "They just watch the sun. That’s their entire life.”

“A sunflower?” Castiel smiles, “ And I don’t think shit is tall.” Apparently Dean waxed poetic with enough alcohol in him. 

“See, an' you say stuff like that. Like the first time I met you, an' I thought you were so funny, Cas— an' so nice— an' you looked at me like I was  _important_ — god, the way you look at me, you have no idea…”

“You need to get to bed. We don’t want to wake Sam up.”

“No.” Some semblance of conscientiousness flickers in Dean’s eyes and he struggles to sit up, falling back to Castiel’s lap twice before Castiel helps him. 

“Alright, come on.” Castiel slings an arm around Dean’s waist and pulls him to his feet. With great difficulty, they manage to sway to Dean’s room where Dean collapses into the bed, exhausted with the effort of just getting there. Castiel has no idea how he made it to the apartment door from whatever bar he came from.

Dean mumbles something into the bed as Castiel drags his shoes off his feet.

“What?” Castiel asks.

“He said, ‘take care of your brother’. Then he was just gone, I saw him go. Couldn’t save him. I tried, but I couldn’t.”

Dean watched his father die. He was in the car, talking to him, when he died. Castiel stands there, muddy shoe in one hand, and starts to cry.

“No, no baby. No tears.” Dean holds his arms out unsteadily, silently begging for Castiel to sink into them. Castiel throws the shoe down and starts on the other. “Leave it, Cas. C’mere.”

“You’ll get your bed completely wrecked.” 

“My life's wrecked.”

“It’s not.” 

Castiel finally manages to get the other shoe off while Dean’s still trying to cajole him into leaving it and cuddling with him. Castiel leaves the room, scrubbing tears from his eyes as he does, and digs a packet of instant ramen out from the cupboard. He fills a bowl with hot water and empties the contents of the packet in the bowl. He stirs it for a few moments, watching the hardened noodles soften and thinking about car wrecks and Dean crying and the man from the inner flap of Dean’s wallet telling Dean to take care of his brother.

Castiel grabs an extra blanket out from under the bed and pulls it over Dean and himself. He props Dean up with pillows and makes him eat. Dean watches Castiel with concern because he’s still crying like the pathetic mess he is, and tries to put the ramen on the bedside table several times but Castiel won’t let him. Castiel makes him eat it all, sipping down water in between gulps. Only when he finishes does Castiel let him kiss him, the overwhelming taste of alcohol and salt filling his mouth. Dean wipes the tears from his face in an uncoordinated gesture. Dean’s talking about his dead father and somehow Castiel’s the one crying and being comforted. 

“Love you. I love you.”

“I know.” Castiel closes his eyes. He doesn’t deserve him. If anyone’s the sun in this relationship, it’s definitely not him. He’s small and insignificant compared to Dean. He’s the sunflower, straining to grow as tall as possible, hoping to touch but never really getting close to the burning, beautiful orb that makes up his whole world.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Dean woke up the next morning and pretended he didn't remember. Castiel let him.

 

* * *

 

Castiel forgot about Dean’s sex toy secrets because he was so concentrated on being pissed at Meg’s attitude toward him. He remembered Dean’s promise to show him randomly in bed one lazy Sunday morning.

“Am I accustomed enough to regular, non-kinky sex for you to show me your toys now?” Castiel asked, infinitely relaxed in the warmth of Dean’s arms.

“Hmm?” Dean asked, sleepy in his post-coital state, despite the fact that it was nearing noon. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Remember Charlie and Kevin’s birthday?”

“Oh.” Dean’s eyes widened in recognition. “Hey, look at the time. We should get up and fix Sammy some breakfast, right?”

“Dean,” Castiel growled in warning. A faint blush glowed under Dean’s freckles.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Dean rolled off the bed and crouched down by the bed, digging around underneath for a few moments before emerging with a long cardboard box. He moved painfully slowly, prompting Castiel to clear his throat to hurry him along.

“Ok, but before you judge me,” he sighed, clutching the box in his lap. “I know for a fact that it’s not _that_ weird for an alpha. It’s just something about the whole, you know, dominance thing. It’s like part of our instincts.”

“Just open the box, Dean,” Castiel insisted, propping his head up on the heel of his hand.

“Like a friggen’ drill sergeant.” Dean’s blush intensified as he carefully opened the flaps and tilted the box so Castiel could see the contents.

_“This is going to hurt,” Metatron chuckled, trailing the whip along his thigh and up his quivering stomach._

_Castiel spit out a mouthful of blood and drew in a ragged gasp as Metatron leaned in to whisper,_

_“A lot.”_

Castiel has to get out of this room, _now_. He stumbles to his feet, backing away from Dean and his _box_ until he hits the door with a thud.

“Cas?”

His fingers fumble over the lock to the door until he manages to get it open. Dean is right behind him trying to coax him into calming down but there’s no way. Not now.

He throws Dean off him just as he gets the door open.. Dean stumbles away and Castiel doesn’t look back as he runs from the room. Sam’s in the living room and Castiel is only wearing sweatpants, but he has to get outside, has to breathe. It’s too small in this apartment with everything closing in on him, locking him in.

Dean’s following him — Castiel can hear his footsteps thunder down the stairs in harmony with his own. Castiel gets to the lobby of the apartment complex and realizes that it’s winter and he’s not wearing shoes.

He can’t breathe.

He needs to be outside.

Worth it.

He slams into the door and pads outside, his feet freezing. His chest immediately puckers with goosebumps, but it’s open. He can breathe. Castiel stares up at the sky, gulping down air and holding himself together.

The sky. He can still see the sky. He can’t see the sun though. It’s smothered in clouds, white and foggy and cold. So cold.

“Cas.” The whisper slides into his thoughts.

“No,” he says, choked by the pain.

“Jacket.” Castiel turns around slowly and sees Dean holding out his tan trench coat, his face completely white, his expression warring between fear and guilt and pain. It hurts him to know that he’s hurt Dean again, but it hurts more to look at him.

Castiel takes the coat from Dean. It’s thin but it’s better than nothing.

_“How are those handcuffs? Too tight?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Let’s see if we can’t get them tighter.”_

It feels like his chest has been ripped open, and the cold is just seeping in. Numb. He’s numb again. He’s so cold that he’s numb inside and out.

“Just let me explain,” Dean says too quietly, clearly trying to be unobtrusive.

“I need some space.” Castiel closes his eyes. He’s never wanted to be away from Dean more than in that moment. He’s never really wanted to be away from Dean until now.

“Cas.” The sound of his name, so broken and pleading, in Dean’s gruff, deep voice almost sends Castiel over the edge again. But he’s calm now, he has it under control. He’s free. He’s outside. He can breathe.

“Just leave me alone.”

Castiel stays outside, just standing there and breathing and looking up and feeling how free he is, for as long as he can. It’s too cold, though, and he will have to go back into the building eventually. He hates how it’s full of closed spaces and doors that lock, but he sky is nothing but white clouds and emptiness anyway. He misses the sun. He misses _his_ sun.

Dean’s sitting on the stairs, hands clasped together and pressed to his lips. His knee is shaking with an anxious twitch that slows when Castiel approaches. Dean rises to meet him as he nears the stairs.

“I’m cold,” Castiel says simply, moving past him without looking at him.

Sam’s in his own room when Castiel gets back to the apartment. Dean’s probably told him to let him handle it. Castiel silently thanks Sam for never asking questions, even though Castiel is always such an obvious mess. Dean follows behind Castiel at a safe distance, stopping in the living room. Castiel can feel the eyes on his back as he retreats into his room and shuts the door behind him.

He doesn’t know how he knows that Dean is crying, but he can feel it in his heart. Maybe it’s the mating bond, or maybe he can smell the faintest traces of Dean’s tears from the room next door, too faint for him to consciously pick up on, but enough to make him uncomfortable. It’s the first night he’s chosen not to sleep in Dean’s bed, instead using his dingy, second-hand mattress. He opens the window, even though the wind threatens to freeze him to the mattress, and watches the rolling white clouds fade to black until he falls into a fitful sleep.

Dean’s pounding on his door when he wakes up.

“Cas, please. I know you’re furious with me, but please.”

Castiel doesn’t realize the awful noise in his ears is the sound of his own screams until he closes his mouth in surprise and the cacophony stops.

“God, let me in, Cas,” Dean cries, banging on the door again.

“I’m fine,” Castiel gasps, clutching his blankets around him and trying to orient himself. Window, there’s a window. It’s beyond tolerably cold in the room so he wraps his blankets around himself and stumbles to the window, sticking his head out to breathe the fresh air.

“Cas?” Dean whimpers from the other side of the door. There’s a soft thud followed by a slide. He can’t hear anything but somehow he knows Dean is crying again.

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to sound soothing. “Go back to bed, Dean.”

“I didn’t know, Cas! You never told me. I never would have shown you if I had known,” he sounds so anguished Castiel squeezes his eyes shut to guard against the twinge of sympathy.

“Go back to bed, Dean. You don’t want to wake up Sam.”

“Please. Please, Cas.”

 

“Go away.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel had an open invitation to play video games with Gabriel. Castiel really hated video games, but he and Gabe had been friends since forever so he tried to make it over every few weeks at least. It was either that or put up with Gabriel whining about how Castiel had gotten all wrapped up with his new boyfriend and didn’t have time for him anymore.

Castiel needed to get out of the house anyway. He didn’t want to ignore Dean, but he couldn’t look at him right now.

“Roommate gone again?” Castiel asked, looking around the deserted room. Castiel had never even met him.

“Just me and my good friend vodka” Gabe said, waving said bottle in Castiel’s direction. “How’s your new roommate? Having lots of hot sex?”

“Why are you always so interested in my sex life?” Castiel rolled his eyes and plopped down on Gabe’s desk chair.

“What else should I ask you about? School? Boring. Family? I’ve known ‘em my whole life and there is _never_ anything new with them. So sex life it is.”

Castiel held his hand out and Gabe passed him the bottle. Castiel tipped his head back and downed as much as possible before he had to stop to cough at the sting in his throat.

“Jeez. That’s not how you usually drink. Something up, Cassie?”

Castiel stared at the liquid, tilting it from side to side to watch how it moved in the clear bottle.

“I haven’t really told Dean about… about what happened to me.” Gabe was silent, still.

“I don’t want to tell him. I thought we had gotten through it and maybe I didn’t need to. We were ok for a little while, but…” Castiel downs another couple of swallows and laughs bitterly at the burn in his throat. “God, I need to be drunk _right now_ , Gabe. Think you can help with that?”

“Sure, Cassie,” Gabe said softly. “Got some more in the mini-fridge. We’ll make a night of it. You can even split the bed so you don’t have to worry about catching the bus. Or I can roll out some blankets on the floor.”

“Thanks Gabe.” Castiel watched the liquid slosh again, already feeling a familiar buzz in the back of his head.

They talk and get drunk and eventually play the only game Castiel really knows how to play—Super Smash Bros— rocking the only character he knows how to be — Kirby.

“Stop sucking me in, you asshole,” Gabe muttered, button smashing.

“Quit hitting me with that giant ball of light, then,” Castiel snarled. He could barely even focus on the screen he was so wasted.

“Haha, I got you!” Gabe mocked, though it was really more of a slur than a sentence.

“I give up. You win,” Castiel sighed, leaning back against the foot of the bed. The tiny pink blob on the screen fell off a cliff as Gabe’s character shoved him. “Think I should call it.”

“It’s nine o’clock. God, you are _such_ a grandpa.”

“I’ll agree to that characterization if you let me sleep.”

“Alright, the bed’s tiny, but if you take one side I’ll keep to mine.”

“Thanks for this, Gabe. I couldn’t… couldn’t just sit at home.”

“No problem, Cassie. What am I good for if not getting you smashed?”

Castiel laughed and clambered onto the bed. He barely managed to get to the side flush against the wall before he fell to the mattress in a heap.

“Gabe, I’m not cool with this.”

Castiel felt disoriented, and his head throbbed in the sudden light.

“You can’t bring guys back with you when I have to sleep here. This is not cool.” A black-haired, hazel-eyed guy stood above them, arms crossed over his chest. Gabe was stirring beside him, throwing an arm over his eyes and moaning.

“Shhh... not the flamingo… never the flamingo…”

“Gabriel. Wake up.” The boy shoved at Gabe’s shoulder, hard. Castiel blinked at him through the throbbing in his head. He was pretty in a hulky, Sam-like way, but he had an air of arrogance in his posture that Castiel didn’t care for.

“What? Jesus, Mike.”

“You can’t sleep with dudes with me here. I don’t want to listen to that shit. Not cool, man.”

“Ugh, no. I’m definitely, absolutely not gay. This is Cassie, he’s drunk and hung over and we both need you to turn the fucking light off right now.”

Michael seemed to assess him. Castiel felt his blood turn cold at the icy blue eyes skimming over his body

“He’s an omega.”

Gabe sat up slowly, putting himself between Michael and Castiel.

“Yeah? So? Got a problem with it?”

Michael scoffed and tore his shirt off, gazing at Castiel hungrily. His impressive muscles definitely intimidated Castiel and, against his better judgment, he shrank into the wall, scared. Between them Gabriel tensed and moved to shield Castiel from Michael’s view.

“Back off, Michael.”

“Relax, I’m just getting ready for bed.” He stepped out of his pants, eyes still on Castiel, and then he was down to nothing but his boxers. Castiel looked away pointedly, staring at the ceiling until he heard the rustle of bedding and the click of the light switch.

Castiel didn’t sleep well that night.  

 

* * *

 

 

Dean is in the living room when Castiel sneaks back into the apartment, red-eyed and stumbling. Castiel can’t make eye contact; he just fills up a tall glass with water and shuffles off to his room.

Three weeks pass by.

Castiel works on chemistry and biology and physics at the library whenever he can and in the confines of his room whenever he can’t. He doesn’t talk with Dean beyond what needs to be said — toilet paper is gone, dinner is ready, Sammy will be gone for speech and debate — and things carry on in a stiff, sad sort of tension. Dean doesn’t attempt to talk to him and Castiel doesn’t let him, finding reasons to leave the room when he enters and never meeting his eye in invitation. He doesn’t think about the contents of Dean’s box because he doesn’t think about Dean. He ignores his existence whenever possible.

Somewhere deep down, he knows he’s hurting Dean every time he avoids his eyes. He’s hurting too much on his own for that to matter right now, though.

One night, when Castiel returns from class, tired and irritable from a long day of studying and dealing with lab partners that didn’t study at all, he hears a beautiful sound.

He follows it down the hallway to a crack in Dean’s door. He hesitates at the door. Part of him is screaming for him to turn around and continue to ignore Dean, because he knows he’s just asking to get stomped on again. Still, another part of him is intensely drawn to that sound by some powerful, magnetic curiosity.

Castiel pushes the door open slowly and the music drifts away as Dean’s green eyes flick up from the strings of the guitar to meet his as he enters. Castiel waits in the doorway and Dean stills too, his hand frozen mid-strum.

It’s the first time he’s really looked at Dean in far too long. He looks healthy enough, except for the faint circles under his eyes. Both of them seem to be waiting for the other to make the first move.

Dean’s music softened something in Castiel he hadn’t realize had hardened. He’s emboldened as he steps decisively into the room. He softly closes the door behind him and sits down on the beanbag chair in the corner. Dean watches Castiel as he situates himself before he drops his eyes to the bed. Castiel waits expectantly as the tension between them seems to grow.

Then he opens his mouth and Castiel’s heart begins to melt.

 

 _And you add up all the cards left to play to zero_  
_And sign up with evil_  
_Angeles_  
_Don't start me trying now_  
_'Cos I'm all over it_  
_Angeles_  
_I could make you satisfied in everything you do_  
_All your secret wishes could right now be coming true_  
_And be forever with my poison arms around you_  
_No one's gonna fool around with us_  
_No one's gonna fool around with us_  
_So glad to meet you_  
_Angeles_

By the final chord, Castiel’s completely thawed out, open and vulnerable and ready to be broken all over again. Dean’s voice is rich and smooth and warms something in Castiel’s chest.

“I didn’t know you could play.” His voice sounds wrecked and there’s no way Dean doesn’t notice.

“I’ve had some spare time recently to get back in practice.” Dean caresses the neck of the guitar, gazing at the instrument steadily. _Oh_.

“When did you learn?”

“Picked it up in high school. I was trying to impress some girl, but I liked it and stuck with it even after we broke up.” Dean shrugs casually.

Castiel draws a shuddering, ragged breath. “I don’t understand how you can like causing pain.”

Dean takes his time setting the guitar down on his lap before he looks at him, so intense Castiel wants to get up and leave.

“I don’t.” He says quietly, relaxing his grip on the guitar.

“You like that— that stuff. Chains and handcuffs and _whips_ —”

“That’s not about pain, Cas, not for me. It’s about control. It’s about having someone trust you so much they let themself be totally vulnerable.”

“So you can hurt them.”

“No! I’ve never hurt anyone. Whatever was done to you… that was _wrong_ , Cas. Violence is not what that stuff is supposed to be used for.

“You’re saying you can whip someone without hurting them?” Castiel knows how bitter he sounds but he is bitter and he doesn’t believe him.

“Look, I’ve never even used the whip, if you want the truth— it came with the restraints. But even if I had… it’s not supposed to actually, truly hurt someone.” Dean scrubs his hand over his neck and Castiel can see that he, at least, believes it. Castiel isn’t convinced of his argument, but he can see Dean’s intentions plain and clear.

“I feel like I thought I knew you and then…” Castiel’s hands are unsteady so he grips his knees through his jeans.

Dean drops his head.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know what else I can do or say to prove that. Look, I like tying people up because I’m an alpha and I need to let my dominant side out every once in a while. I mean, you _do_ know me… and how often do I let myself be aggressive and controlling? When I’ve got someone tied up, my goal isn’t to hurt them. It’s to know that they’ve chosen to accept what I give without argument. I’m not great at explaining it because I’ve never really had to, but…”

“Ok, Dean. Ok.” Castiel’s head feels heavy. He turned Dean into someone else in his mind, but he couldn’t help it. Too many sights and smells and fucking feelings are crammed into his memories and they’re so vivid, so bright and sharp and painful that Castiel can’t separate them from the present. “I get it. You like the submission. Not the pain.”

“Yeah.” Dean says, soft.

“Ok.” Castiel’s worn out. He’s been sleeping alone and the nightmares are back and starting to exhaust him. He doesn’t want to fight any more, he doesn’t want to hold onto everything. He crosses the distance between them in three careful steps and moves the guitar off Dean’s lap so he can climb up and straddle him. Dean’s entire face lights up with surprise before it shifts into an intense stare, his hands coming up to hesitantly clutch at Castiel’s lower back.

The light from his bedroom window hits him perfectly, highlighting his angular cheekbones and beautiful jawline. Castiel sighs, tracing that jaw he admired so frequently with one finger, mesmerized by the jade green of Dean’s iris. He smells like _mate_ , so refreshing to Castiel’s raw nerves.

“I forgot who you were.” Castiel whispers his apology as he leans his forehead against Dean’s. “I confused you with him.”

“Who?” Dean’s voice trembles.

Castiel closes his eyes and sucks in an unsteady breath. He waits until his hands are still, gripping Dean’s shoulders for stability.

“His name was Metatron.” Dean’s muscle is hard and knotted beneath his fingertips. His breath smells faintly like alcohol, but mostly like apple pie. “When I was sixteen, he kidnapped me from my mother’s car while she was grocery shopping and held me in his basement for three days.” Dean’s green eyes pin him, horror and fury lighting them up with alpha red. The air smells bitter and tangy. “He liked pain, a lot. So did his mother. She threatened to kill my family if I reported him. She knew he could be charged since I was scent blocking at the time he took me. I was in the hospital for… two weeks, and in pain for a lot longer. Metatron liked to punish me so it would _last_.”

Dean pulls him closer, gentle and undemanding, and Castiel gives his consent by scooting and moving with him so that they’re chest-to-chest, groin-to-groin. Castiel loops his arms around Dean’s sturdy shoulders and rests his head against him.

“He branded me, burned his ring into my forearm. I’ve heard they do it in the underground red-light districts in other countries to distinguish what house the omegas belong to.” Castiel pauses, licks his lips. “I guess he didn’t want me to forget that he owned me.”

Dean draws back and Castiel knows he’s seen the scar he’s talking about because he’s run his fingers over it curiously, yet never asked about it. He looks it over with new eyes, his lips trembling as he leans in to kiss it. It’s shaped like a sword piercing a circle, the white skin puckered with the memory of tiny boils.

“How did you find your way back to me this time?” Dean asks, his eyes haunted as he lifts them to Castiel’s face.

“Metatron could never play music the way you just did.” Castiel swallows hard. His Dean was capable of being impossibly gentle, handling his instrument with reverence and respect. He’d forgotten about that side of him when he saw his box of toys.

 

* * *

 

_So usually I would do my notes in the actual notes section, but I have a thousand links to dump on you._

_Thank you for all the kudos and comments and everything! I'm kind of amazed at the response with this story, I thought it would be too dark to get a lot of attention. I should have realized I was dealing with the Supernatural fandom, haha._

_[Here's some fanart I asked my tumblr friend to draw for me](http://snuggydean.tumblr.com/post/74436123585/linneart-x-had-a-destiel-modern-college-au)[.](http://crowleysinnuendos.tumblr.com/post/74436123585/linneart-x-had-a-destiel-modern-college-au) I'm in love with her drawing style. If anyone else wants to do fanart, I would love it and I'll be sure to include it in my future author's notes!_

_Second order of business is the song in this chapter-- yes, Jensen does actually sing it. If you haven't heard it yet[you need to because his voice can actually make you orgasm all on its own.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0vdAm3sEFE)It's not fair that he's that pretty and that great an actor and can also bring women (and men) to orgasm with just his voice._

_Lastly, big shout-out to my beta! She's a grammar genius and I owe her a thousand thank yous. She has a lovely blog, so please[go check it out](http://theinevitableblastwave.tumblr.com/). She also runs [a fic rec blog](http://deancasficfix.tumblr.com/) that I have used on more than one occasion._

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I got suddenly crazy busy with school, as did my beta, and I had a bunch of revising to do as I wasn't happy with the ending I'd written. I've got finals in a few weeks and then hopefully I'll be updating more regularly, but in the meantime I appreciate your patience. I might be able to update, but I might not, so I don't want to promise too much (that's super wishy washy, lol, but that's the best I can do right now).
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments in the past few weeks asking me to continue the story! I appreciate your interest and I'm sorry for promising a schedule for updates when I couldn't deliver. It's a wonderful feeling to know people enjoy your story, though!!
> 
> Everything I've written is 100% up for discussion, and I'm definitely interested in hearing different viewpoints, but only if I feel like there's an atmosphere of respect. 
> 
> In general, thanks again for all the encouragement! I love writing Sam and Cas, and I might just write a crack Sastiel fic at some point *wiggles eyebrows*...
> 
> One last thing: my wonderful beta is *super* busy and isn't able to beta the rest of the fic. If anyone might be interested, please drop me a comment with another way to contact you (email, tumblr, whatever).

Castiel had his nose in Dean’s neck, breathing in Dean's heavenly alpha arousal, and Dean’s hand carding through his hair when his phone rang. Dean grumbled and pulled him closer as he leaned for the phone, and Castiel couldn’t help a small pleased smile as he wriggled free and Dean followed, leaning his cheek against Castiel’s naked back as Castiel sat up to answer.

“Clarence? You there?”

Castiel frowned, the feel of Dean tracing nonsense on his lower back with feather light fingers distracting him. Still, he was pretty sure he didn’t recognize the voice on the other end.

“May I ask who’s coming—calling?” Dean snorted into his skin as Castiel closed his eyes, mortified.

“If I had to guess, you, but you should really wait to answer the phone if that’s the case. It’s Meg.”

Castiel shivered as Dean’s fingers dipped down under the band of his sweatpants, weakly pushing at his insistent hands, mildly embarrassed.

“Who?”

“Oh, you know who. You fucking hate me.”

“You work at the Weiner Hut.” Castiel’s voice was frigid because yes, yes he remembered her now. “How did you get this number?” He demanded, immediately furious. Dean froze with his tongue pressed to the dimples in Castiel’s lower back.

A small, hollow chuckle answered him.

 “Remember Sammy? Cute, sandy hair, big innocent blue eyes-”

“I know what Dean’s brother looks like. What about him?” Castiel cut her off, his words clipped and tight. Dean sat up, a combination of worry, anger and fear flooding his expression as he held a hand out for the phone. Castiel was passing it over as Meg’s voice clarified,

“No, my Sammy. Samandriel.”

The omega, the sweet one. Some of the worry recedes from Dean’s features, but Castiel feels his stomach drop as he brings the phone back up to his ear.

“He got fired. He was staying with me for a few days, but he’s been a wreck since he was evicted from his apartment. He didn’t come home last night and he’s not one for one-night stands.”

“Ok.” Castiel said, a numbness settling under the immediate panic, “Ok. I don’t know where he is.”

“He said you gave him this number to call if he was in trouble. Has he called you?”

“No.” Castiel said faintly. “No, I haven’t heard from him. Why was he fired?”

“They said he was stealing from the store. Load of bullshit, but someone convinced them. There was this bitch in a few days before it happened. She gave him her card, wanted him to come work for her--”

“Lilith. We’ve met.” Castiel swallowed hard. Dean’s eyes darkened into anger, a muscle in his jaw pulsing.

“Yeah, well I’m sure super bitch had something to do with it. Sammy doesn’t even _like_ sex; as far as I know he’s never willingly participated. Besides, the kid’s got this intense moral high ground, like… doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, has all these flowery views on waiting ‘til marriage for the real thing… I’d believe he’d steal from that store about as much as I’d believe I wouldn’t steal from that store.”

“What can I do?” Castiel asked, clutching the phone tightly.

Meg paused before answering,

“I called the police, but they say there’s nothing they can do until he’s gone for 24 hours. I’m assuming the worst here, but maybe I shouldn’t. If he isn’t dead on the side of the road, do you know where you types would go when you’re down in the rough? He and his parents still aren’t on good terms.”

“There’s not many places.” Castiel sighed and ran a hand over his eyes, “You can try the homeless shelter, or if he’s religious he might be at his church.”

“He’s very religious. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I’ll call around, see if I can find him. Would you… just give me a holler if he calls you, ok? He may be a preachy little runt, but he’s a good kid.”

Castiel almost smiled. Maybe Meg wasn’t so bad after all, if she was this worried about Samandriel.

“I’ll call you. Text me if you find him.”

“Hope I don’t hear from you, Clarence.”

Castiel could feel the weight of Dean’s worried gaze as he hung up. His insides were twisted; sick, he felt sick.

Dean’s hand lightly brushed his shoulder, caressing down his arm. Castiel kept his eyes closed, trying to quell the sudden nausea.

“He just disappeared?”

“There’s no such thing, not for us. Someone has him.” Castiel said, and he felt certain of it deep in his bones.

Castiel got up and rifled around in their bedside table (which at some point over the many months had indeed shifted from Dean’s bedside table to their bedside table), searching through the bottles of pills and pens and notepads.

“What are you looking for?”

“Her card.”

“You  _kept_  it?” 

Castiel’s hand stopped as it unearthed the business card. He could see it poking out from beneath a light blue phone pad.

“Cas.”

Castiel brushed his hand over the card and picked it up with clammy fingers. He wanted nothing more than to drop it back in and cover it, bury it as though it never existed.

He couldn’t look at Dean as he answered.

“Just in case.”

When he chanced to glance over at Dean, what he saw ignited shame in his stomach, accompanying the nausea. 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘just in case’? I would never let you get that desperate.” Dean sat with his hands in his lap, beyond hurt as he searched Castiel’s face for answers. 

“I know you wouldn’t.” Castiel swallowed, thumbing the card over and over again, hating its off-white color and the pretty, lacey cursive that spelled out that witch’s name. “I didn’t want you to have to take care of me.”

“ _Cas_.”

“Dean, I know it’s awful, ok? I know. You don’t have to tell me. I’m aware.” Castiel said, sharper than he intended. Dean just stared at him for a few moments before he climbed off the bed. He straightened his shoulders as he pulled on his dad’s old leather jacket, and when he turned around to face Castiel again Castiel hated how he hid from him, a steely, blank expression fixed on his features.

“Don’t call.” Dean said, his voice flat. “She’s not going to help.”

“If he’s working for her now, she’ll want to gloat,” Castiel took a deep breath. This would be a lot easier if Dean wasn’t so angry, if Dean’s hand was a reassuring weight on his back instead of shoved deep in his own pocket.

“Wait.” Dean growled before he fished his phone out of his pocket, “Use mine. I’d rather she have my number than yours.”

Cas took the phone, silently grateful. He dialed the number printed in ostentatious type.

“Lilith.” A high, girlish voice answered.

“This is Castiel.”

“Ooh, the pretty omega. Had a change of heart, dear? I’m glad you held onto my card. Wherever did you disappear to, by the way? Your old roommate was most unhelpful.”

“My friend talked to you, Samandriel,” Castiel said, ignoring the shiver of disgust that ran through him.

“Mmm, yes, he’s a cutie too. We did chat a few days back.”

“Is he working for you now?”

Lilith laughed.

“Why, I thought he had a  _real_ job! Said he was too good for my line of work, just like you. Is that no longer the case?”

“You evil bastard,” Castiel hissed, “I don’t know how you did it, but you’re going to pay for it.”

“So feisty… I like it. Sadly, you can’t prove anything.”

“Fuck you.”

Castiel hit the ‘end’ button in a rage. Dean’s expression softened somewhat into pity, but Castiel wanted none of it. He seethed on the bed, hand clenching around the phone until Dean spoke up,

“Let’s go look for the kid.”

Castiel pulled a random shirt, could have been either his or Dean’s, on and followed Dean out the door.

 

* * *

  

Castiel liked churches; they were usually quiet, beautiful, peaceful places. He sat in the pew as Dean talked to the pastor about Samandriel, trying to calm the storm inside of him with help from the tranquil space. Beautiful stained glass imagery filtered colored light onto the ground around him, images of Jesus and Mary and the angels refusing to leave him even when he closed his eyes to pray. 

_The sinners sin and the innocent pay for it in blood. Nothing has changed. We’ve failed. We’ve failed each other._

“He knows him, he comes to church here every Sunday. He hasn’t seen him lately, though. There’s one other church around here that’s been known to house homeless omegas. He gave me the address.” Even though Dean whispered, his voice carried in the vast, open space. 

“Someone has him, Dean.” Castiel said with dull certainty. 

There was a statue of an angel behind Dean, and it lent its wings to his silhouette. Colored light from the stained glass painted Dean’s shoulders with a surreal edge, highlighting the pale spikes of his hair with sapphire and ruby and emerald tones. Castiel was breathless for a moment, afraid and awed by the gorgeous illusion. How easily Dean took on the visage of an angel, how natural it was to imagine those wings were real.

“Let’s just check this other church out first, ok?” Dean said after a pause, shifting a bit under Castiel’s heavy gaze, “Stay positive.”

Castiel had to get home and do homework soon. School started again tomorrow and he had projects to finish, speeches to write, and tests for which he had to prepare. If they went home too late, he’d have to cut into his sleep to finish it all. 

It was an exhausting thought, searching hopelessly for someone he knew they weren’t going to find.

Still, he nodded mutely. He would follow this angel anywhere, no matter how hopeless he felt. He would always at least try to believe if Dean asked it of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel nestled in close to Dean that night, his nose against his chest as Dean snored, loud and sweet. His chest hair tickled the sides of Castiel’s cheek.

Castiel didn’t sleep, though he tried very hard; he had a long day ahead of him.

He got up and memorized instead, going over his flashcards again and again. Studying was a good distraction, a productive one. 

He wasn’t thinking of all horrible possibilities for what Samandriel was going through.

He wasn’t going to have to use that card, he was going to get a real job so he could provide for himself and be a respectable partner for Dean rather than a burden.

Cas remembered the choice his parents gave him: get a scholarship or don’t go to college. He’d stayed up the night after they told him, researching job opportunities for omegas, and that’s when he started studying as hard as he could. There weren’t many jobs he could expect to be hired for, and certainly none he had a real interest in. He liked learning, he liked science, and, most of all, he liked people. He loved what he knew they were capable of, even if they didn’t always meet his expectations.

There was evil, but he didn’t think of that as localized to humanity; it was just life. Life was full of evil. Mother nature, or God, or the Devil, or  _whatever_ , murdered in gruesome ways every day, with or without the help of humans. Humans could love, though. He’d felt love in his own heart, he’d seen it in others. He’d read about the strength and power of it and experienced it on occasion. He loved humans because they were capable of love.

Some people were desperate, some were scared, and some were just, plain and simple,  _evil_  at their core. There was no helping the latter, or no way Castiel knew, but most everyone else just wanted to live a decent life. Castiel had concluded that that was where most of the evil stemmed from, the desire to live well and falling short of it. He believed most people, regardless of the quality of their character, deserved a measure of dignity in their life.

That very simple philosophy led him to medicine; if he could take away as much pain as possible, if he could take away illness and hunger and desperation, he could reduce the necessity for evil and give people a chance to love more. It wasn’t a perfect idea, and he could think of many exceptions and flaws in his plan, but it was a start.

Beneath it all, he was an optimist—a cautious and realistic optimist, but still an optimist.

His parents had had enough money to send one kid to college, and they decided to send his beta brother. If Cas wanted to go, he had to prove he not only wanted it, but  _deserved_  it. Castiel knew the decision wasn’t easy for them, and he also knew that Balthazar would never get a scholarship; his brother was intelligent, but a free soul who couldn’t buckle down quite like Castiel could, even if necessary. Castiel knew his parents put the pressure on him in part because they knew he could handle it.

And he had proved he could, at least up until that point, but he still felt weak and scared just like everyone else.

If he dug that card out of the drawer, threw it out, stared at it in the trash, and then fished it out again, well… he would never tell Dean.

  

* * *

 

 

 

The days dragged on, and Castiel anxiously checked his phone for updates from Meg, but even the few times he actually texted her there was no news. Castiel felt helpless so he kept his head down, kept working, kept his mind on other things.

It was hard to keep his fears from Dean, though, when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Dean was a good sport about it, covering him in his arms and stroking his hair until he calmed down, but Castiel soon realized that he fell asleep afterwards much sooner than Dean. He didn’t know the full extent of how hard his night terrors were on Dean until Dean came home from work in the middle of the week, looking wretchedly haggard, and fell asleep on the couch with a beer still in his hand while he waited for Castiel to finish making dinner.

Castiel carefully tugged the beer from Dean’s fingertips, noting the new circles under Dean’s eyes while guilt overwhelmed him.

He dug a blanket out from under the couch and draped it over his mate. Dean smelled especially distressed lately and he was constantly tense. Castiel figured it was because of his own violent sleeping habits, but maybe he was actually exacerbating another problem Dean hadn’t wanted to tell him about because he thought Castiel had enough to deal with.

Sam walked out of his room, saw his brother passed out on the couch, and shook his head with an affectionate smile.

“Dinner?” He asked quietly, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Soup and bread,” Castiel replied, apologetic. “Nothing fancy tonight.”

Sam just shrugged good-naturedly.

“I’m not picky.” 

They both settled down at the counter to eat. Sam sipped at his tea with his usual contemplative silence while Castiel stole glances at Dean’s sleeping form.

“How’s school?”

Sam jumped at Castiel’s question, though it was soft so as not to wake Dean.

“It’s alright.”

Castiel frowned, biting a chunk out of his bread.

“You love school.”

Sam shrugged again.

“What’s up?” Castiel pressed, growing worried, “Is someone giving you a hard time?”

“I’m a 6’4’’ alpha; not many people dare to give me a hard time.” Sam sighed, cradling soup with his spoon only to let it drizzle back into his bowl. “SATs are next week. I’m nervous, I guess.”

“I hardly think you have much to be nervous over.” Castiel smiled. Sam was the smartest person he’d ever met in real life. He was like one of those whiz kids on tv, the kind who built and launched rockets into orbit before they even got to college. 

“I’m ok at math, but I’m not amazing at it. I mean, I have A's in all my classes, but nationally I’m not sure how well I’ll do. We do live in a po-dunk sort of town, it’s hard to measure your ability here,” Sam muttered glumly. 

“Sam, all of your teachers agree that you’re going to go wherever you want, including your math teachers. Please don’t worry too much,” Castiel insisted, setting his bread down and waiting until Sam met his eyes to read the confidence there before he resumed eating.

“Dean’s… Dean’s pissed at me, isn’t he?” Sam seemed to deflate even more and Castiel paused, his spoon still in his mouth.

“Why?” He asked slowly, “Did you give him a reason to be?”

“He, uh… he doesn’t like Ruby very much.” Sam’s ears turned pink as he said it and Castiel almost smiled at his adolescent bashfulness. Almost.

Castiel didn’t care much for Ruby himself. She was manipulative at her best and dangerous at her worst. Castiel couldn’t understand Sam’s attraction to the older girl other than Sam seemed to be attracted to intelligence and Ruby was certainly that, though she used it against people whenever she could.

“Do  _you_ even like Ruby very much?” Castiel asked quietly, crossing his hands before his barely touched soup. Sam swallowed and shifted his spoon in his hand. “Seriously, tell me one quality of hers that you admire.”

“She can be nice. She gave me a ride several times when Dean was busy,” Sam retorted, starting to get defensive.

True as that was, Castiel remembered how irritated Dean had been that Ruby was his only option in those particular cases.

“Have you been hanging out with her more?”

“We’re sorta dating.”

Castiel reeled. He’d been so focused on his own problems that he hadn’t even realized Sam was dating Ruby?

“Since when? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Only a few weeks. It’s nothing serious, we’re both in it for fun.”

“Sam, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” Castiel said seriously.

“It’s not,” Sam replied instantly, snapping visibly into his Speech and Debate mode, “In our state, sexual interaction is legal if the minor is within 2 years of the other partner. It’s known colloquially as the Romeo and Juliet laws.”

“Oh shit, please tell me you did not spout that off to your brother.” Castiel groaned, covering his eyes. Sam was silent, and when Castiel looked at him he was red in the face again. “You did. You fed him that line, the Romeo and Juliet thing.”

“I know it sounds stupid,” Sam stammered, no longer Mr. Speech and Debate but his awkward 16-year-old self.

“It is stupid. You shouldn’t be fooling around with her, Sam, I’m serious.”

“Cas, it’s fine, really. It’s not a big deal, she made that really, really clear.”

“Jesus Christ,” Castiel muttered, tearing into his bread mostly to have something to take his anger out on. “You are a  _catch_ , Sam Winchester. Why are you wasting your time on Ruby of all people? You deserve more than she could ever give you.”

“I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Castiel’s head snapped up immediately. Sam had a strange, sad determination in his eyes, his jaw set in a hard line. He met Castiel’s eyes fearlessly.

“You know that’s not true,” Castiel said finally.

“What do you mean it’s not true? You could have fallen in love with either of us and you fell in love with Dean. I love my brother, and I’m not saying you made a bad choice, but I wasn’t even… I wasn’t even an  _option._  It was always just Dean.”

This mess had been so long resolved that Castiel had almost forgotten Sam ever felt for him romantically.

“You’re thinking of it as a competition, but it just wasn’t. Love is… love is irrational and unpredictable, and there’s no measuring stick to hold up against one person and another. It is or it isn’t,” Castiel said carefully, watching Sam’s reaction.

“I think that’s bullshit,” Sam said dismissively, calmly eating his soup. “There’s some factor Dean has that I don’t, and that’s why you ‘irrationally’ chose him and not me. I’m just… I’m just  _less_  than him. I always have been. My dad knew it—he and Dean got along so well, but Dad and I fought constantly. Dean’s just… he’s so open. He’s kind and selfless and completely dorky and people love him immediately, he doesn’t even have to try. Meanwhile I’m just  _weird_ , and people are either intimidated by me or they try to compete with me. I’ll never be normal,” Sam ended, a bit wistful under what sounded like an attempt at impassive analysis.

“You and Dean are different, not better or worse. We’re just less compatible, Sam. That’s why I fell for Dean and not you.”

“Maybe,” Sam said, thoughtfully spooning more soup into his mouth. “I don’t think we’ll ever know how compatible we could have been seeing as we never tried.”

It was weird. Castiel forced himself to swallow down more soup, unbearably uncomfortable in the new silence.

“I’m not trying to start anything,” Sam said suddenly, still completely calm, though his gaze held a hard edge. “I’m not trying to come onto you. Your Dean’s and he’s yours and I get that, I understand. But I’m alone, so why not mess around with Ruby in the meantime? You say I’m a catch, but no one else is biting. No one else is interesting to me, and I’m not interesting to them.” Sam shrugged, his unusually large shoulders sinewy with adolescent muscle. He’d grown so much in the last few months. He’d already been much taller than Castiel when they met and now he was a freaking giant. Castiel had a hard time remembering he was still 16.

“What about Charlie?” Castiel perked up at the thought, “She’s really smart. You like that, right?”

“Charlie and Dean’s ex are a thing now.” Sam’s lips quirked up at the thought.

Castiel blinked, unsure what else to say.

“It’s cool, Cas. I’m ok.” Sam smiled tightly. “Really, I’m fine.”

“I don’t like Ruby any more than your brother does,” Castiel grumbled, “but I’m not your brother so I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Yeah, well, neither can he.” Sam smirked. “He thinks he can, but he really can’t.”

“Sam, don’t be a shit.”

“What?”

“You know what. Look how exhausted Dean is—don’t torture him needlessly. He’s got me to deal with, and I’m a total nightmare.” Castiel shook his head, “Between the two of us, we’ve got to give him a break once in a while.”  
Sam chewed his bread thoughtfully, and his sharp hazel eyes unnerved Castiel as they flicked over him.

“You still having bad dreams?”

Of course the kid could hear him scream every night. Castiel sighed and set his gaze on his food.

“I’m going to try a new kind of sleeping pills. Hopefully they’ll knock out my REM sleep and your poor brother can get some rest. I’m sorry if I’ve been waking you as well.”

“I’m sorry you get them,” Sam said softly, earnestly. “I wish you didn’t have to suffer like you do.”

  
Castiel couldn’t look up from his dinner. He was grateful when Sam finished and got up to wash his dishes, leaving Castiel to his shame.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to valyria and bearcatkat for the beta help!

Dean fell asleep at 5 PM that Friday night and Castiel felt completely awful about it. He cleaned their room, and there was no pretending they had separate rooms at this point it was definitely  _their_  room, washed the dishes, called Jo to cancel their plans and covered him up on the couch again, delicately easing the playstation controller from his fingers and rearranging his feet so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. It was the feet jostling that woke him.

“Cas?”

Dean rubbed at his eyes and Castiel admired how beautiful his mate was for the fortieth time that day. He was especially gorgeous when he was sleepy and exhausted and his hair stuck up everywhere and his lips parted in that near constant confusion.

Cas drifted over to the side with Dean’s head and sank to his knees, leaning over the edge of the couch to press a lingering kiss to Dean’s very tempting lips.

“I’m so sorry you’re exhausted because of me.” Cas mumbled against Dean’s cheek, nuzzling him in an instinctive expression of affection. Dean’s hand rested on the back of his neck and he closed his eyes. He stayed silent as he drew in Castiel’s regret, which was supposed to be soothing to an alpha. Apology smelled fresh and smooth to Castiel, though Castiel supposed it might smell different from an omega to an alpha.

“It’s not your fault, baby.” Dean mumbled, turning into Castiel’s touch to kiss him again.

“I know,” Castiel muttered miserably. There were a million things that made him hate himself, but being unable to control his sleep habits was up there.   
“No.” Dean held his eyes, tone sharp. “No. Don’t do that.”

“I really feel like shit over it. You should let me sleep in my bedroom tonight. Please, Dean Castiel grimaced.

“You’re not waking up by yourself.” Dean yawned and stretched, getting up off the couch.

Ugh. Asshole.

“I love you,” Castiel muttered into Dean’s neck as he caught him in his arms.

Dean chuckled, but Castiel could count the number of times Dean had responded similarly on one hand. It didn’t matter much to Castiel because Dean showed it enough that he didn’t have to say it.

Dean kissed him again instead, stroking a thumb over his jaw as he asked,

“Where’s Sam at? He home from school yet?”

“Not yet.”

“It’s late though…” Dean frowned, checking his phone for the time, “It’s almost six. Where is that little twerp?”  
Castiel chewed the side of his cheek before answering.

“He said Ruby was giving him a ride home.”

Dean’s expression settled into disgust. He swore under his breath as he started walking to his room.

Castiel stood there confused until Dean returned with his favorite leather jacket slung over his shoulders, glaring at the screen of his phone as he raised it to his ear.

“You’re going to pick him up?” Castiel surmised, nervous at the stench of alpha annoyance.

“I don’t want him around Ruby.” Castiel followed Dean out the door, jogging to catch him at his brisk pace. A dark cloud of anger surrounded Dean and made it difficult for Castiel to breathe.

“Where are you?” Dean demanded the second Sam answered. Castiel couldn’t make out Sam’s side of the conversation, but he could definitely see Dean wasn’t pleased with it. “Damn it, Sam, I’m saying no. Absolutely not. NO. Ruby is off-limits, I really—don’t pull that, you know I’m right this time, you just want to be as stubborn as you possibly can… Because I’m four years older than you!” Dean shouted into the phone, “Because I changed your diapers! You’re still a kid, Sammy, and I know—come on.  _Sam_. _I’m dead serious Sam, I said no.”_

Dean let a furious breath loose as Sam hung up.

Castiel decided it was best to stay silent as Dean unlocked the Impala, choosing instead to silently pile in next to him in the front seat.

“She’s poison!” Dean fumed, slamming one hand against the steering wheel as he peeled away from the curb. Dean wasn’t a dangerous angry driver, but he sure was jerky. Castiel lurched in his seat as Dean braked for the stop sign.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered again. “Charlie  _insists_  she’s not that bad, but you know she does hardcore drugs, right?” Dean looked to Castiel for assurance, spots of red high up on his cheeks. “All sorts. I’ve seen her in the bathroom at parties, snorting it up her nose. There’s no way my brother’s getting caught up in that… that  _bullshit_. Not while I’m still responsible for him. No, even after. No fucking way.”

“Dean, you can’t force him.”

  
“Yeah, I know, believe me,” Dean growled, turning jerkily again. “But I’m not going to stand by and watch this just happen. No way. He’s going to have to fight me every step of the way. Especially since I’m the reason he even  _knows_  her… god.”

“I know,” Castiel said softly, soothing. “I think you’re doing the right thing.”  
Dean glanced at him, a small draft of gratitude weaving through the stench of fear.

Dean was all white-knuckles and four letter words for the rest of drive. He parked outside the attendance office at Sam’s school and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“You’ve got ten minutes to get out here before I come in there and get you. I’m not fooling around here,” Dean hissed. “Where are you, then? …Sam I swear to god, if you don’t tell me where you are right now—“ Castiel’s heart beat quick under the smell of pure alpha filling the car. He probably shouldn’t have come along.

“Fuck this,” Dean hissed, throwing his phone into the backseat so hard it bounced against the leather. Dean stilled suddenly, his eyes drifting over to Castiel. Castiel blushed.

“Sorry, you’re… you smell good,” Castiel mumbled, lowering his eyes.

Dean didn’t look angry anymore, more strange and almost pained.

“Just… just wait ‘til we get home, k?” Dean said, his movement stiff as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“I know,” Castiel replied quickly, feeling incredibly awkward. “No, I don’t… I mean I don’t expect anything right now, I know it’s totally inappropriate and I am concerned for Sam, I am, you’re just… with the whole authority thing and the  _smell…”_ Castiel babbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“The… ‘authority’ thing, huh?” The edge of Dean's lips quivered slightly, threatening a smirk as he pulled into traffic. 

Castiel turned and stared out the window in embarrassment.

Dean pulled into a parking spot outside Ruby’s apartment complex. He glared at the complex for a full ten seconds before he unbuckled himself and strode up the building stairs, banging on Ruby’s apartment door until Ruby herself opened it.

Castiel watched Dean’s terse gestures. He could barely make out what Dean was saying, but it was obvious she was getting an earful. She rolled her eyes, flipped him off, and dragged Sam through the door by the arm with a ‘good riddance’ sort of gesture before slamming it in Dean’s face.

The brothers argued their way down to the car and Castiel braced himself for the whirlwind of pheromones as they got in.

Sure enough, the sour smell of alpha displeasure sank into his lungs as the two slammed their doors.

The good news was they were apparently not speaking to each other, so the ride home was only terse silence instead of loud arguing.

Sam didn’t quite slam his door when he got home, but it was close enough that Dean jerked at the sound and glared at the closed door for several seconds before relaxing into an exhausted stance and leaning against the counter.

“My dad would know how to deal with this.”

  
“He was Sam’s father, though. You’re not. You’re doing the best you can.” Castiel tried to comfort him.

Dean shrugged noncommittally and went for the fridge. Castiel sighed, already knowing what he would pull out when he shut the door. Dean brought the beer to his lips but froze as he caught sight of Castiel’s expression.

“What?”

Castiel gently twisted his fingers in Dean’s and wedged the beer from his hold. Dean’s eyes darkened in understanding and a tinge of embarrassment colored his cheeks. He set his jaw.

“What?” He asked again, almost daring Castiel to say it, but he didn’t. They both knew already, there was no point.

“Come to bed,” Castiel whispered instead, setting the beer down on the counter. “Come to bed and let me take care of you.” He leaned against Dean, finding it was not the usual pliant comfort but something stiff and devoid of any give.

“Sorry… I just need… I need something different tonight,” Dean said, and Castiel leaned back to take in the hard planes of anger in Dean’s face and the set of his shoulders.

“What do you need, Dean?” Castiel asked because it had always at least seemed like he was enough for him.

Dean disentangled himself from Cas, and Cas felt his mate’s withdrawal as a physical stab in his chest. He could even stand the fumes of rage coming off Dean as long as he got to touch him, soothe him.

“Some space. I’m pissed, Cas. I don’t want to take it out on you, but I might, you know?”

Castiel swallowed hard and nodded.

“I’ll just sleep in my bed tonight,” Castiel agreed, feeling a bit numb and rejected as he started to wander down the hall to his room.

Castiel stripped down and curled in on himself on the empty bed, waiting for his nightmares to come meet him.

  

* * *

 

 

When he eventually woke up, heart pounding in his chest and a wail torn from his lips, somehow Dean was there, warm and ready with his big palms to gather Castiel up into a tight embrace.

“I thought—“ Castiel gasped, and the memory of being held down was still fresh but this was nothing like that, this was comforting and sweet and he could smell Dean everywhere—

“Thought you were gone.” Castiel searched for Dean’s lips with a desperate kind of urgency. Dean met him easily enough, and when Castiel pushed Dean gave, responding to Castiel clawing at his arms by rolling onto him and weaving between his legs.

“You’re ok, I’m here,” Dean whispered against his mouth. “It’s ok, Cas.”

Castiel pulled at Dean’s clothes, needing his heat, the touch of his skin. Dean had turned into a beacon of comfort for him; every inch of him soothed Castiel.

“Dean.” Castiel pulled harder at Dean’s pants, still desperate for something, he didn’t know what. 

Dean helped him, his fingers ghosting over Castiel’s and holding them until he stopped shaking quite so badly.

Cas wrapped his legs around Dean as soon as he was free of his boxers, tangling warmth in warmth and enjoying the slide of Dean’s body against his.

He felt frantic, urgent to have Dean everywhere. It wasn’t enough, just touching wasn’t enough for him—he needed more to stop fear.

Dean gave it to him, entering him cautiously but gaining confidence and speed as Castiel moaned his approval and pushed him farther by tightening his legs around Dean’s hips. But even with Dean buried as deep as possible, it still was not enough.

Castiel clawed at Dean’s back, raked a hand through his hair, loving every inch of his mate and missing him, somehow, even though he was right there.

Dean’s treatment of him grew more and more intense as Castiel’s excited agitation thickened in the air. Cas could feel the shift of tension in Dean’s scent as he moved from Castiel’s lips, to his ear, down the curve of his neck and mouthed just off from his pulse point… the mating mark.

Castiel cried out, loud and long, as Dean lightly bit at Castiel’s neck. Castiel obediently tilted his head back, exposing himself as much as he could. Dean would sometimes tease him with biting there, it was almost like a second prostate as far as how it felt, but this was different. There was nothing teasing about the low, possessive growl that rumbled deep in Dean’s throat.

“Claim me,” Castiel hissed, his voice fucked out and more gravelly than usual, “Claim me, Dean.”

When Dean lifted his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, his irises were veined with gold, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl. The air pulsed with pure, heady, intoxicating  _alpha_. He looked beautiful and wild.

“Bite me.” Castiel arched up against him, pushing chest-to-chest and clenching hard around Dean’s throbbing erection.

A low growl started again in Dean’s throat, vibrating through both their bodies as Dean’s teeth grazed Castiel’s neck—but  _grazed_  wasn’t what Castiel wanted, desperately, with every molecule of his body.

“Do it,” Castiel urged, clawing at his back and dragging a hand through Dean’s short hair, pushing him even closer.

Dean was still fucking into him, slower now, and sweat was beginning to build between their bodies. The air was electric, sweat and sex and  _need_  thick in their lungs.

With a violent wrench of his whole body, Dean pulled back, leaving Castiel cold inside and out.

“No.” Dean shook his head, and the gold veins faded somewhat from his irises, his chest heaving with exertion. “Not like this, Cas.”

Castiel could feel himself shutting down, the shock of yet another rejection icing his insides.

Dean tilted his head back, gasping as his lungs filled with more of that potent alpha and omega chemistry. His eyes flared gold.

“Damn it!” Dean cursed, scrambling off the bed and lurching over to the door to throw it wide open. He stood at the doorway, leaning hard against the wood frame as he caught his breath.

Castiel stayed silent, struggling under the weight of his feelings as he tried to comprehend the crushing rejection.

“Oh shit, that was so close. That was closer than we’ve ever gotten before.” Dean ran a hand over his face, still panting.

Castiel’s voice caught over a heavy lump of emotion in his throat.

“You don’t want to mate me,” Castiel said, as calmly as he could muster. Conflicting emotions of  _but Dean loves me I know he does_  and  _of course he doesn’t want to mate you, you’re a disgusting omega and he’d be tied to you until he died,_  had his head spinning and his stomach clenching.

“Cas, you’re not thinking clearly. This is  _forever_. Forever.” Dean panted, his eyes still wavering between clear green and alpha gold.

“Yes,” Castiel said, his voice stone cold and perfectly calm now. “Yes, I understand.”

“Cas, don’t do this,” Dean whispered, staring at him.

“No, I understand, Dean,” Castiel said, feeling like he was floating up out of his body and watching himself, ever so calmly, rearranging himself on the bed. “Let’s just go to sleep and forget about it.”

“Come on, Cas.” Dean slowly closed the door and approached the bed cautiously. “That’s for the marriage bed, not now. Not on a whim when we’re both feeling shitty about life.”

Castiel turned onto his side facing away from Dean, struggling against the tears that rose to his eyes.

“I want it to be more than that, Cas.”

“I understand, Dean,” Castiel repeated, his voice a trembling whisper that he hoped didn’t betray how hurt he still felt.

Dean climbed in behind him, but Castiel felt hollow as Dean wrapped his arms around his middle and nuzzled his still-pulsing neck.

 

* * *

 

 

It was two weeks when Meg finally called just to say, “Nothing still. Asshole cops aren’t trying nearly hard enough.” Castiel got up and went to the roof of the apartment building, staring out over the cold smoke of the city until Dean found him and made him come back inside, wrapping a blanket around his shivering shoulders.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Sam and Dean stubbornly faced off in silence when Castiel made breakfast for them on Monday. They sat and stared at their food, moving their eggs around on their plate before getting up and leaving.

Castiel rolled his eyes sky high and packaged the food for later.  _Winchesters._

He slept a little better that night, though not by much. He woke up in the night as usual, but he wasn’t screaming, thankfully. He clutched at Dean’s shirt, stripped his own nightshirt off since it was covered in cold sweat, and buried his nose in Dean’s neck, inhaling the alpha smell until his rabbit heart slowed to something reasonable enough to sleep again.

Before Dean, when the night terrors came, he would have to get up and wander outside, rain or snow or bitter cold, and feel the openness until he could wind himself down enough to return to bed. Now, he cuddled closer, breathed in the smell of his mate. Dean curled around him in a warm embrace rather than leaving him chilled.

Jo still insisted on their once a week meetings, even though she’d given Cas the stamp of approval long before. Castiel liked to think it was because she enjoyed his company. Cas quickly learned that time spent together did not diminish how intimidating he found her, but he enjoyed hanging out with her once a week too.

This week, Cas was accompanying her in picking out hunting equipment, because he was clearly an expert in that area.

“This one’s serrated, see Cas? It’s got these ridges on the side? Makes it easier to slice through the—“

“Uh-huh. I see, Jo,” Castiel cut her off, holding up a hand and staring intently at the dagger, hoping she wouldn’t finish her sentence. “I use serrated knives when I cook. Ellen really takes you hunting?”

“Hell no, even though she’s an amazing shot. My dad and mom used to, but when he died in a hunting accident my mom stopped going and refused to let me go without her. Dean takes me in secret sometimes. At first he was a real pain in the ass about it, but I wore him down.” Jo paused eyeing some equipment on a far wall, “It makes me feel closer to my dad.”

Castiel nodded, unsure what else to say. 

“My dad didn’t really take me out. He took my brother out.” Castiel shrugged. “I don’t have many memories with him, but if I did I imagine I’d like to recreate them any way I could.”

“Did he take your brother out because of…” Jo raised her eyebrows and Castiel nodded.

“Balthazar’s a beta. Dad thought he would enjoy ‘manly’ activities more or something, so they would go to sports games and stuff. I actually don’t know what they did most of the time, I only went with them a few times. I think they went hunting too? My dad thought it would be better if I spent more time with my mom.”

“Well, it’s never too late to learn. Me and Dean will take you out and teach you.” Jo patted him helpfully on the shoulder, if a little harder than he thought necessary.

“Ok,” Cas agreed, though he wasn’t sure his father had been completely wrong about this matter; he couldn’t really imagine himself enjoying killing things for fun. He was premed for a reason.

“Yours is still alive, you know. You can still make memories with him. If you want to,” Jo suggested, pulling her wallet out and counting her bills before nodding and heading up to the cash register with the knife in hand.

“Not particularly.” Cas shook his head. “My parents are fine, but I don’t think either of us would gain much from spending more time together.”

“Why’s that?” Jo asked as the clerk rang her up.

“They’re… set in their ways.” Castiel picked up a keychain. It featured a demonic looking Eagle swooping in to clutch a gun, with very patriotic colored lettering underneath that spelled out “guns, guts and glory: America”.

The store boasted camouflage colored equipment Cas had seen before, most of which under circumstances he never wanted to think about again, and yet he was surprisingly fine. He worried before agreeing to come with Jo, but his hand had been steady for months when he cooked with knives so he figured he would be all right.

The clerk had a funny looking mustache, one of those French mustaches that Castiel found fascinating, but it wasn’t the mustache that had the skin on the back of his neck prickling. Castiel shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with no explanation as to why. 

In his quest to find the source of his discomfort, he looked in the glass behind the clerk, the glass that concealed shelves of bullets, and found eyes that reflected back at him—ones he would never forget.

Castiel freezes.

Castiel runs.

The door to the back must have an exit. Castiel wrenches it open, leaping over employee bags and purses, his eyes caught on the red “exit” as it rushes up at him.

Jo is calling.

The door sets off an alarm. It screams, alerts the whole store to the monster.

Get out, get out while you can.

He’ll find you.

He’ll catch you.

Forest, there’s a forest.

He’ll find him; hunt him like an animal, cut with _serrated edges_.

Crowds. Safe in a crowd.

_ Thump. Thump.  _ His heartbeat in his ears? Or the sound of footsteps behind him?

Safety. 

Dean.

_ Find Dean. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an evil author and I kept you hanging for over a month... whoops! Thanks for all the messages of excitement/horror, this was probably one of the toughest chapters to write and edit. I've said this before, quite a bit, but it's worth repeating for this chapter: check the tags, and if anything mentioned is triggering proceed with caution or back out please. 
> 
> I don't think it's too spoiler-y to encourage you to think positive (well, positive for this angst-ridden fic) from here on out, though.

Castiel doesn’t know how long he waits in the bathroom of the coffee shop. It could have been minutes or hours or even seconds; time has lost its meaning, replaced by the beating of his heart in his ears, the fear rushing through his veins, and the feel of the solid wall at his back.

Castiel can sense him at the door, watching. Waiting. Always waiting for Castiel to let his guard down, to get lazy and relaxed. Dean made him forget. Dean made him feel safe.

It goes on and on, the  _thump thump_ , the low whines of pain and terror escaping his throat at every gasp. He’s in hell again, waiting. This is a new kind of torture, but still familiar. Pain is pain.

 

The knock that comes on the door causes Castiel’s heart to jump up into his throat. He swallows once, twice. His throat is too dry for swallowing, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. It’s a pasty, chalky feeling.

“Cas, it’s me, Jo.”

Her hushed voice knocks Castiel out of the painful limbo of neverending heartbeats and he sees the room around him for the first time: blue walls, porcelain sink with fluted handles, an impressionistic painting of a man on a bicycle, all orange and yellow against the periwinkle walls.

“Cas, let me in.” The knocks come again. “Dean is on his way, but can you let me in?”

“No.” Castiel gasps out. “No, that’s ok. I just—I’m just sick.”

Jo waits for a few moments. A fly buzzes around the bathroom and lands on the mirror, flicking its wings and rubbing its tiny hands together.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Cas. I’m a little freaked out, to be honest.”

“I’m sorry.” Castiel chokes on his guilt.

The light is a pleasant, warm color that grounds Castiel. His heartbeat slows a bit, and he can catch his breath enough to stop the room spinning. He realizes he’s going to hyperventilate if he doesn’t slow his breathing down, so he makes himself breathe through his nose, great rasping breaths that sting on the way down. His brain calls out for more air that he needs to gasp down quickly, but Castiel does his best to ignore it.

“Dean’s almost here, he’s trying to park. I’ve got him on the phone. Do you want to talk to him, Cas?” Jo tries again.

_Dean. Alpha. Mate._

He can’t open that door, though. He can still feel him watching it, waiting for him to make a mistake.

Maybe he just sounds like Jo? Maybe he’s trying to trick him?

What? No. Crazy, Castiel’s going crazy. He shakes his head, trying to clear some of the panic.

But he’s out there, he’s definitely out there. Jo doesn’t know, she can’t recognize him by sight. Castiel sits up suddenly—he’ll get Jo if she stays out there. Maybe Castiel should pull her in? They could hide together in this too small room, away from his horrible eyes.

“Cas?” A gruff, terrified voice that’s like warm water over his chilled skin.

“Dean.” Castiel closes his eyes. 

“Cas, can you let me in?”

Castiel stares hard at the doorknob, willing himself to cross the distance and turn it. His body won’t move, though.

“I can’t.” Cas whimpers.

“I have a key, I’m going to use it, ok? It’s just me. It’s just me, baby.”

“Ok.” Castiel nods, and despite what Dean says his entire body tenses up again. He digs his fingers into the wall, sliding down it until he can curl up on himself, be as small as possible. “Ok, ok… ok…”

The door cracks open and the smell of Dean and the long slope of his nose and the curve of his lips and his hands on Castiel’s face and shoulders and back and the smell of his hair in Castiel’s nose.

“What happened?” Dean’s asking, his mouth pressed tight in the curve of Castiel’s neck, his shoulders quaking under Castiel’s grasping hands.

“He’s back, Dean. He’s found me.”  _Warm, so warm_.

“Who? Crowley? Michael?”

Castiel shakes his head.

“Metatron. He’s found me, Dean. He’s going to finish it. He’s going to finish what he started.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean’s never seen Cas like this. He’s seen Cas scared. He’s seen him cry into a pillow, seen him shaking with fear, seen his eyes drain of emotion - but he’s never seen this. The smell is overwhelming, bitter on his tongue. Dean found it impossible to breathe in that bathroom.

Cas wrapped his arms around himself as he moved into the living room, looking around like he’d never been in the apartment before. He was muttering to himself, so low Dean couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he saw his lips moving, rapid sentences overflowing into nothingness.

“Thanks, Jo.” Dean looked at his best friend and, yeah, she looked scared. She’d been white faced since he saw her standing outside the bathroom at the Roadhouse.

“He was fine, and then he just started running.” Jo leaned in to whisper to him, nervously clutching at his sleeves.

“I don’t know.” Dean watched as Cas stood in front of the sofa, muttering softly to himself. He stared at the couch like he didn’t even see it.

When Dean turned back to Jo, her lip was trembling, though her eyes were fierce. Her hands tightened on his sleeve.

“I’m so sorry if this was my fault.”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “I think… thank you for helping me get him here, but…”

“I’ll go. Please, call me.” Jo nodded minutely, her eyes big and round as she backed one step away from him, watched Cas rock and mutter for a second or two, and then shut the door behind her as she left.

Cas jumped at the sound, his muttering swelling into “…not that one, please not that one…” before his eyes caught on the door and he hunched his shoulders more, as if steeling himself.

Dean didn’t even know if just being there for Cas would be enough, not this time. Cas wasn’t even here, he was somewhere else; somewhere deep. 

Dean had never felt such rage, such unambiguous hatred. He wanted to get Metatron in a room and run down a list of horrible, agonizing tortures. Cas could watch if he wanted, though Dean doubted he would. Dean just needed a good toolbox and he knew exactly what he’d do to that pig. It was his favorite thing to imagine as Cas shivered in his arms at some ungodly hour of the night, still screaming from his nightmares. A feeling more insistent than his murderous intent overwhelmed him now, though: fear.

“Cas?” Dean asked, approaching his swaying form. Cas jumped at the soft call but didn’t look at him, looking away from him instead. Dean padded toward him carefully, slow as he could go, until he tentatively brushed his hand over Cas’ shoulder. “Baby?”

“Am I?” Cas asked, twisting from his hands immediately. The fog lifted over his eyes and all Dean saw was raw pain. “Do you want to touch me?”

  
“I—“ Dean blanched at the words. Of all the things he'd expected him to say, it wasn't that.

“Do you want to touch me, Dean?” Cas repeated, his voice trembling, his eyes swimming with tears, and all Dean wanted was to apologize profusely for whatever he’d done, but he didn’t know what it could be. “Is that why you did it?”

“Did what?” Dean asked quietly, completely confused.

“You convinced me I was safe.” Cas whispered, his low, gravelly voice breaking. The tears spilled over as Cas asked, “How could you do that to me?”

He turned away from Dean, pulling a blue blanket from the side of the couch and wrapping it around his shivering shoulders. It was warm in the apartment, though, and Dean ached at the sight.

“You are safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

“You CAN’T.” Cas whirled on him. “He’s here.” Cas whispered, his eyes growing wide until the whites showed all around his irises. “He’s here, I saw his  _eyes_ , and he could be watching me right now. Nothing can protect me from him.”

“Cas,” Dean said slowly. He just had to get Cas out of this panicked headspace, then he would be more reasonable. “How do you even know that was him?”

Cas looked as though Dean had just questioned everything he believed in, rudely.

“I  _know_ , Dean. I’ve seen them a thousand times over; he burned them into me like he burned this into me.” Cas threw off the blanket around his shoulders and touched the brand on his forearm. “It’s him." He stared at Dean, and somehow he seemed flatter to Dean, less substantial in some important way. "Now you don’t believe me. You’re trying to convince me to feel safe again, but it’s not going to work. I’ll never be safe. I know that now.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, his eyes were white and his hand shook where he demanded Dean look at his scar. “It was all an illusion, a ruse.”

“Cas.” His words drilled into Dean painfully and Dean nearly doubled over from it. “You know I would do  _anything_  to make you safe. I’d kill him. I will, I will kill him.” Dean swore, his voice low. 

Cas met his eyes again, his lower lip trembling. He looked utterly lost. Dean wanted to hold him. He tried, but Cas pushed him away again, violently.

“No. Don’t touch me.”

Dean forced his hands down, though the whiff of utter terror he’d inhaled as he neared Cas stirred his alpha instincts into a wild panic. His omega was hurting, badly, and everything in him screamed to help him, save him.

“I’ll kill him, Cas,” Dean vowed, his alpha blood sizzling.

Cas took a shuddering breath and pulled the blanket he’d thrown to the floor back over his shoulders.

Dean wanted to grab at Cas again, pull him into his arms and bury his nose in his neck until he convinced him he was safe, but the rational side of him knew that was the worst impulse he could follow in this situation. Instead, he clenched his fists and glued them to his sides. Cas was cold, and it wasn’t a chill he was willing to let Dean try to warm.

Dean stepped back until he made it to the kitchen counter, far enough from Cas’ scent that he could get his alpha instincts under control again.

Cas sat on the sofa, pulling the blanket tight around himself. Dean let him sit in silence.

“You should check on Sam,” Cas said, staring blankly ahead.

Dean blinked out of his stupor.

“Yeah. Alright.” He got up slowly and walked to Sam’s bedroom. He pounded on the door.

“Sammy?

Silence; it went on and on. Dean was tired of silence.

“Sam, let me in.”

No response still.

“If you don’t answer me I’m going to assume you’re gone, and then I’m going to get pissed,” Dean said, his shaky control over his inner alpha broke as his voice deepened.

“No school today, so where the hell is he? And why didn’t he tell me where he was going?”

Dean backtracked to the living room, wondering if he should ask Cas. Cas clarified, unprompted,

“He didn’t tell me he was going anywhere.”

“He’s with Ruby,” Dean surmised, a dismal sinking sensation in his stomach. Frustration and fear eddied in him. “Gotta be. That  _bitch_.”

Cas’ head snapped up and he stared at Dean, his face draining of what little color had returned since Dean brought him through the door of the apartment.

“Shit.” Dean stumbled over his words, fear and guilt overcoming any thoughts of Sam. “Shit, Cas. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“Go look for him,” Cas growled, his eyes narrowing. Dean had never seen him look at him like that. “Get away from me.”

Cas might as well have kneed him in the crotch. He had to swallow down a pathetic whine that came from some deeply injured alpha instinct in him.

“You sure?”

_Need me. Don’t tell me to go. Please need me. Please. I need you._

Cas nodded, looking away from him in a short, jerky motion.

“Go.”

 

* * *

 

 

 Dean had this uneasy, wobbly sensation he couldn’t shake as he drove to Ruby’s apartment. His omega had rejected him, sent him away, when Dean knew Cas was feeling most vulnerable and scared. Cas’ words wounded him more than he wanted to admit to himself.

“Seriously?” Dean muttered as he parked outside Ruby’s house. “What a brat.” He kicked his door open and stomped up to the house, banging on the apartment door with all of his frustration.

“Open up, super bitch!” Dean growled. Then he almost choked on his own words, Cas’ white, terrified yet furious face flitting through his thoughts. His goddamn mouth. He needed a muzzle. How many times had Cas been called a bitch by the people who hurt him? It was probably Metatron’s favorite pet name for him, and Dean couldn’t even do him the courtesy of censoring himself, something so simple and easy.

“Get off my landing, Winchester!” Ruby threw the door open, stalking out to meet Dean chin to chin, her posture aggressive and demanding for a beta. But Dean was already pissed, and she really should have chosen a different day to mess with him.

Dean stepped closer until their noses were nearly touching. Ruby didn’t flinch, but her eyes narrowed just the tiniest bit.

“Where is my brother.” Dean growled, refusing to look away.

“I don’t. Fucking. Know.”

“Bullshit.” Dean tried to step around her but Ruby blocked his way.

“No way, not after you spent the last five minutes pounding a hole in my door!”

“Get out of the way,” Dean snapped. Never hit a girl.  _Never hit a girl._

“It’s fine, Ruby.” Sam stepped around her, emerging from the depths of the house. His pupils were dilated, his hair a complete mess; he stank like weed and sex.

Rage swelled in Dean’s heart and he rounded on Ruby,

“Fucking  _liar_.”

“It was just a little weed, relax.” Ruby leaned against her doorframe, looking bored.

“See you.” Sam ducked his head and headed for the car. Dean looked between them, trying to decide with whom he was more pissed. Sam. Definitely Sam. He expected this from Ruby, but Sam usually had his head on his shoulders, not between his legs. Dean pointed an accusing finger at Ruby and hissed,

“He’s sixteen and he’s up for more scholarships than you can count, so don’t tell me it’s ‘just a little weed’. If he gets a criminal record, he’ll be disqualified from a lot of opportunity. If you care about him at all, don’t fuck up his entire life.”

“Ugh, it’s not like I’m waving a joint outside the police station! Lighten the fuck up, Winchester!” Ruby called after him as he turned and stormed back to Baby. Sam was already waiting inside, his chin in his palm as he stared out the window.

Dean wanted to scream at him. He wanted to yell until his face was blue, but there wasn’t anything he could say that he hadn’t already said, and Sam ignored it all the first time through.

“She’s right, you know, it’s not a big-“

“Finish that sentence, and I swear you are never leaving my sight again,” Dean growled, glaring at him. Sam, for once, fell silent, his dilated eyes wavering as he turned to stare out the window again.

Dean needed a drink, bad. Every alpha feeling in him was twisted with shame at what a failure he was as a protector and a family head. Everything was out of control, and he couldn’t fix any of it. He just kept screwing up, as usual. He was the dumb one in the family, and right now his dumb brains didn’t know how to fix all the messes.

As frustrated as he could get with dad, he missed him fiercely. John was not a perfect father, especially after mom died, but he always seemed so confident when he made his decisions. Dean was wandering in the desert, everyone around him crying for water, while his own throat was parched.

 

* * *

 

Cas wasn’t in the apartment.

Dean switched into an alpha mode he didn’t know he had, tearing the door to his bedroom open and snarling as he took in the mess. Cas had tried to stack the desk chair against the door, and it was tossed to the floor in a disorganized way. The bed was unmade, the comforter bunched up in the far corner as though he had made a nest on the floor as far from the door as he could get. His scent grew colder in the room by the minute, but it was the only scent, thank god; he'd made all this mess on his own.

Dean couldn’t think through the haze of sheer panic.

Sam heard his animalistic whines and started asking questions, but Dean was done with trying to talk to his brother for the day and finding Cas was the most important priority in that moment. Sam sounded like he was yelling at him from underwater he was so hyper focused on his search for Cas.

Where could he have gone? The place he felt safest in the world was their apartment, in their room, with the mate smell to work on his chemistry and calm his body down.

Dean stood in the living room, listening to his heartbeat in his ears and feeling overwhelmingly frustrated because there was nowhere else Cas would go. After an ordeal like today, Cas usually needed to curl up in Dean’s arms and nap until Dean’s hormones worked on his to calm him down. He wouldn’t go to Ellen and Jo’s, they made him too nervous. He still hadn’t met Bobby, even though Bobby bugged Dean about Cas at every opportunity. Bobby was who Dean himself would go to in a crisis.

Then Dean came to a realization that chilled him instantly, freezing him in position for half a second before he broke out into a sprint. 

Maybe Cas never calmed down, maybe nothing had worked this time. 

 

* * *

 

 

 The roof was warmer than the last time Dean found him up there. Spring warmed the air, and summer was just around the corner. Cas liked to come up there on warm days and read, lying on the warm pavement with his head on Dean’s stomach or in his lap.

Sometimes Dean saw him looking out over the edge, a hint of longing in his eyes, and Dean couldn’t help but wrap his arms around him and draw him away, downstairs to their bed where he could feel him solid and real in his arms, feel the blood pulsing through his body and listen to him breathe. Dean’s worst fear lived in that longing glance.

“No, no, no, no, no.” The air wiped the tears from his face as he sprinted the stairs to the roof, and a burst of sunlight blinded him for a moment as he hit the doors at the top with his full speed, immediately looking everywhere until—

A huddled lump by the railing.

Dean landed on his knees in front of Cas’ bent form. His hands shook as he reached for him and his heart broke when Cas weakly pushed him away. Dean was all animal now, the human left the animal in him to deal with the raw emotion, so Dean just snarled and pulled until Cas was in his arms, his head resting against Dean’s shoulder weakly as little sobs wracked his body.

“This is not you,” Dean whispered into his hair. He could still touch his wonderful, soft hair. It smelled so omega sweet, like fresh laundry and grass after the rain. Cas shook his head, his tears wetting through Dean’s shirt.

“I’m tired. I’m so tired of being afraid.” Cas clutched at his shirt, and instead of turning away he buried closer. Dean hugged him, fear still coursing through him. It was probably too tight, but Cas didn’t complain.

“No. You can get through this,” Dean muttered, and Cas flinched in his arms.

“You expect too much. I’m nothing. I’m a bug.”

“You’re a menace. And you’ll remember how tough you are soon enough, once you’ve rested and the police have caught that son of a—“ Dean choked on his own words. He swallowed hard before he tried again, “You need to get angry, Cas. You need to get pissed. I’ve got you. Sam’s got you. We’re going to give ‘em hell, ok? We’re going to make them pay. All of them.”

“He’ll lock me up, Dean, you don’t understand—“

“I won’t let him, Cas, and neither will you.”

Cas leaned back, his wet, hopeless eyes meeting Dean’s. Dean couldn’t put into words how much he loved that perfect shade of dark blue, how grateful that Cas had pulled through.

“Dean, if I… I wanted…” Cas looked at him and Dean felt loved again, felt like he was looking at  _his_  Cas again, the one who yelled at him when he left his dirty dishes out, the Cas that was so unequivocally  _alive -_  not that shell he brought back to the living room earlier in the day. “Maybe if I wasn’t here, he’d leave you alone. He’s not interested in alphas, just omegas… he might hurt you trying to get to me, Dean, and I couldn't bear it...”

Dean would have barked a laugh if his throat wasn’t clotted with horror. 

“No, Cas. No. Don’t ever think like that. Ever.”

“I’ve fought, Dean. I’ve kicked and screamed and bitten and they just… I can’t stop them, I never can. I never could.” Cas shook his head, his eyes hollowing out. Dean almost sobbed as he watched his Cas slip away into the shell again. “I’m so  _tired_.”

“No, angel.” Dean pulled Cas’ head into his chest and held him to his body, so grateful that he was warm and he could feel his breath against his chest. “I’ll never let them hurt you again.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience. I haven't forgotten this story, just finding it difficult to fight through these chapters. Shouldn't be long now, though - just a few more chapters.

Hello darkness, my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again  
Because a vision softly creeping  
Left its seeds while I was sleeping  
And the vision that was planted  
In my brain still remains  
Within the sound of silence

 

-Simon and Garfunkel, Sound of Silence

 

 

Castiel wishes, he wishes so deeply, that it had been Naomi’s eyes he saw in that glass. He’d seen her everyday in school as class president, walking the halls. Her eyes followed him when he walked past her, and sure he hated her and he hated how she made him feel, but he could  _deal with it_. He’d gotten used to the way she looked at him and seeing her when he didn’t expect it. They’d even exchanged words a few times, and her condescending, self-righteous attitude was awful but Castiel could handle it, comparatively. He’d even seen Uriel at family reunions from time to time, and though he made him sick to his stomach he could make it through the pleasantries. Metatron was a different matter entirely.

It helps to wake up to the scent of Dean and the feel of his arms around Castiel’s body.

Castiel holds his hands in his head as the sun peaks in through the window, struggling through the new curtains in their room. Cas tries to breath through the heart-pumping anxiety and irrational fears that whisper to him. The room is sparsely decorated, but a few pictures of Cas and Dean and Sam have started collecting on Castiel’s bedside table. The earth tones that remind him of Dean soothe him. He yawns; he didn’t sleep well, though Dean had finally convinced him to do so... until he woke up in a panic.

Castiel isn't able to answer the door when the unexpected knock comes.

He follows Dean to the living room because he’d rather have the opportunity to offer himself to Metatron than risk Dean being harmed, but he can’t convince Dean to leave it. Sam wanders out from his bedroom too, and Cas can feel his eyes on him but he doesn’t have an explanation for the misbehaving teenager yet.

“Mr. Novak?” A woman’s voice comes from the other side of the door Dean cracks open.

“Who is it?” Dean exchanges a confused glance with Sam. Sam leans against the counter where he’s pouring himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes, craning his neck to see through the crack between the door and the frame.

“I’m with the police, my name is Jody Mills.” It’s a pleasant voice, enough that Castiel nods to Dean and Dean steps away from the door.

She’s a pretty lady, somewhere in her thirties or forties. Her short black hair sweeps to the side, her hazel green eyes sticking on Sam as she takes in the apartment. She steps just beyond the threshold and stands with her feet apart in a solid stance.

“Who’s a Winchester and who’s a Novak?” she asks, looking between them. Her right hand perches on her waist and her hips cant into a no-nonsense posture. Cas can’t smell anything off of her, so he assumes beta since it’s rare for alphas to scent block.

“Novak.” Castiel raises his hand hesitantly. “Did I do something wrong, officer?”

“No, sir.” She shakes her head, glancing at Sam again. “I’m investigating a crime that’s recently come to light.”

“What do you need me for?”

Jody seems hesitant to answer his question. Dean moves closer to Cas, wrapping his arm around Cas’ shoulder no doubt in response to the sharpening of fear in his scent.

“May we speak in private? Maybe out in the hall?” she asks, glancing between the brothers.

“No.” Castiel shakes his head, glad for Dean’s arms around him. “No, say what you need to say.”

“Sam, can you go to your room?” Dean asks quietly over Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel hears Sam shuffle off behind him and the door click as he follows Dean’s request. He’s glad this is one of those rare instances where Sam actually listens to Dean.

The police officer shifts on her feet. Her dark navy suit is severe, and Castiel immediately feels he needs to show his throat to her.

“Four years ago, were you assaulted by a Metatron Cataclysmos?”

Castiel gapes at her and Dean’s grip tightens.

“I never reported it,” Castiel says quietly, gathering as much calm as he can muster. He tries to brace himself when she opens her mouth again, but nothing could prepare him.

“I know. We recently uncovered a… a horrific basement. I’m sure I don’t need to be more specific with you. DNA evidence suggests he kept you there, and I checked with the hospitals in your area and found you did a two week stint in one around four years ago.”

“I—“ Castiel swallows down the lump. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

Jody sighs, shifting on her feet again and scouring the apartment with her sharp eyes. Dean’s scent fills with fear and hot fury.

“He’s here,” she confirms, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “I take it he’s harassed you?”

Castiel shook his head.

“I saw him in the hunting shop yesterday.”

Jody nods tightly.

“We got an anonymous tip about his basement, and when we showed up at his house he ran. He was spotted in a gas station not too far from here. I’m worried that he’s targeting you again. I want to put a police detail on you, to follow you when you leave the house and squat on this apartment in case he tries anything.” Jody stills, and it seems like she has to make herself meet Castiel’s eyes. “I can’t imagine what you went through, but our experts think he’s escalated since then. He targets omega boys because almost no one reports them, so we aren’t sure just how many boys he’s had down there, but of the DNA evidence we’ve got at least ten. Two of which we were aware had gone missing, and we’ve found the bodies of about five, all of them prostitutes. But…”

“Bodies?” Castiel asks faintly, leaning into Dean for support.

Jody nods slowly. Irritation crosses her expression, her hand tightening reflexively on her gun at her hip. “I understand why you didn’t come to us before. Some of my colleagues are… well, they’re asses. I just want you to know that I take your safety very seriously, and I will personally sleep on your couch to protect you if we don’t catch this bastard in the next few days. I think we will, but… if we don’t, you won’t be without protection.” 

“That’s not why I didn’t report it, because I thought the police wouldn’t care.” Castiel can’t feel his fingers in his left hand because they’re clutching Dean’s arm so tightly. “He threatened to kill my family if I said anything.”

Jody recoils visibly at that. She breathes deep, her eyes lost in thought.

“I called their house first to see if you were visiting. Your mom answered. I’ll call up to the station in your family's area and see if they can spare a few officers to check in on them and squat on your parent’s house, too. Our experts don’t think he’ll target them, though, they think he’ll try to get at you. As long as he isn’t aware that we’re tailing you, they don’t think he’ll attack you. I’ll talk to them about this new piece of information, though, and see if that changes the profile.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replies numbly. 

She leans forward, extending her hand. Castiel stares at it before he realizes what he’s doing. He slips his hand into her and shakes. She has a firm handshake.

“I’ll call with a status update. I’ve got your phone number,” she smiles, and Castiel feels Dean relax next to him, “because, you know, I’m the police. But I wanted to introduce myself in person.”

“Thank you very much.”

A hint of a smile crosses her lips before her eyes harden. “I’m going to do everything in my power to catch him.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Today’s better, isn’t it?” Dean asked him as he dried off the dishes while Castiel washed them. 

“What do you mean?”

“You look like _you_  again. Do you feel better?”

“You mean, do I still want to go up on the roof?” Castiel asked. No reason to sugarcoat it.

Dean paused while tucking a recently dried dish in the cupboard.

“Cas.”

“I feel… I feel better,” Castiel answered, the warm water running over his hands as he scrubbed at a plastic container with leftover lasagna stuck to the insides. “I like Jody.”

“I do too.” Dean set the plate down. “And now the police are working on it, we won’t need to worry so much.” His eyes bored into Castiel as he leaned against the counter to give him his full attention. “Do you… do you agree?”

“Do I feel safer?” Castiel interpreted Dean’s meaning. A pulse of panic shot through him, his vision wavering before a strange calm settled him. “He’s hunting me.” 

“I won’t let him get you, Cas.”

Castiel noticed how the light above the stove framed Dean, like an angel. His angel.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel wakes up to a phonecall at three AM. Dean snorts into consciousness next to him as Castiel lifts the phone tentatively to his ear. In his mind he can remember Metatron’s nasal, grotesque voice, and he expects to hear it, reminding him that he’s never safe, especially in sleep.

“Mr. Novak?” It’s a feminine voice instead, and Castiel is frozen for several moments before he realizes the voice expects him to respond.

“This is he,” he says, and Dean’s arm tightens over his stomach as he listens next to him.

“We got him. We found him, we have him in custody.” Jody - Castiel recognizes her voice suddenly.

It’s like a dream.

He must still be dreaming, a cruel, wonderful dream.

“How?” Castiel finds himself asking.

“His landlord turned him in. He didn’t know what he was up to, he gave him a fake name and information for a background check, his victim’s information actually—“

“Victim?” Castiel asks immediately, and Dean’s sharp intake of breath fills the pause in Jody’s words.

“Samandriel Jones.”

Castiel sinks into Dean’s tight grip, boneless at the words.

“No.”

“He’s ok. He’s in the hospital, and you can visit him first thing in the morning. He… he’s alive.”

“Oh god, no. No, no...” Castiel whispers into the dark room, and even Dean’s arms can’t take the chill away.

Dean puts his hand on the phone just as Cas drops it, and Dean pulls it to his ear.

“Jody? What happened?”

Dean listens as Castiel sits frozen in his misery, his arm a tight vice around his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

The hospital was that off white color of crème that was supposed to be comforting, and Castiel immediately hated it. He checked at the front desk and yes, Samandriel was in the ICU, and yes, he could visit as soon as visiting hours start. Castiel blew off class to come early, missing a quiz and a handout, but he didn’t care about school then, which also scared him.

 

Dean asked for time off work to come with him, and though Castiel insisted he didn’t need him he was glad to have him at his side. Dean’s smell, more than anything, helps with the queasiness. Castiel didn’t know what to expect. Jody told Dean it wasn’t “that bad”, but by whose standards? Jody’s? Compared to what they’d found of Metatron’s other victims? Metatron had “escalated” since he first got a taste of Castiel, apparently, so Castiel expected the worst.

 

They had to page the nurses to get into the ICU, and then they faced a long hallway with rows of glass walls looking in on patients in various deplorable conditions. A nurse met them halfway and helped them find Samandriel’s room.

 

Castiel let a breath go when he opened the sliding glass door. Samandriel was at least in one piece, and after imagining all the possible disfigurements he could have been subjected to in his time missing, Cas was relieved to see a five-pronged human before him.

 

That was where his relief ended, however. Samandriel’s face was bruised and cut, his shoulders and arms bandaged. What Castiel could see of his feet was covered in bandages as well.

 

_“Shallow cuts.”_

Castiel reached back and Dean caught him as he stumbled. Samandriel turned his face slightly, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal his pretty blue eyes.

“Castiel?” He asked quietly.

“I’m here,” Castiel choked out, pushing away from Dean and tripping his way to the chair next to Samandriel’s bed. He checked his hands for injuries before he grabbed one and squeezed lightly.

“Castiel.”

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Cas squeezed again, and he could feel the tears welling up, his stupid omega hormones on the rampage again. But the pain was so real. He was looking at himself four years ago, lying on a bed, all the wrong colors.

“He talked about you,” Samandriel whispered, his voice quiet but his words terrifying. “He said he would do to you what he did to me. I was so scared for you.”

“We’re both going to be ok now,” Cas whispered, leaning closer and resting his arm on the railing. “We’re going to be ok.” He didn’t fully believe it, but he had to sell it for Samandriel. 

“Ok.”

 Castiel sat in silence, holding his hand. Samandriel swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. His lips quivered as he mumbled,

 “I would have told him anything, but he just wanted to hurt me.”

Castiel winced. He interlaced their fingers and brought the omega’s fragile hand to his face, rubbing his scent into it in a comforting way. He hadn’t known Samandriel long, but they knew each other now, in an intimate way. They were both maimed inside and out. He could see the patch over the inside of Samandriel’s forearm, undoubtedly to cover the burned flesh of the omega prostitute symbol, identical to his own burn mark.

“They’ve got me on fluids and sugar water and whatnot. I was pretty dehydrated when I first got here.”

Castiel nodded, but the reality of Samandriel’s experience was only starting to hit him. _Weeks_  he’d been with that psychopath. Cas rubbed a hand softly over the upside of the hand he held.

“You’re safe. They caught him, he’s behind bars right now, no parole. He’ll be convicted for sure, Jody said they have foolproof evidence.”

“For sure?” Samandriel asked, and the terror in his eyes was so real, so vivid that Cas almost looked away. He steeled himself and gripped his hand harder.

“I trust Jody. I’ll tell you the moment there’s a verdict, but for now he can’t get to you.”

Samandriel offered him a weak smile. Then his smile faded and his eyes took on a new level of intensity.

“Cas, will you do me a favor?” Samandriel lowered his voice, “Get him out of here.”

Castiel stilled. Dean smelled like alpha, angry alpha. He hadn’t even realized because he’d grown accustomed to Dean’s scent, so much so that his emotions didn’t bother him like other alpha’s scent emotions did.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said quietly, backing from the room and leaving the door open to air it out.

Cas remembered when he’d first started locking himself in bathrooms, after the second time. Whenever he saw Raphael down the hallway at school, Cas would slip into the bathroom and lock the door to a stall until he was sure he was gone.

He sat with Samandriel until he fell asleep, his breath ragged and dragging horribly on the air with each draw.


	13. Chapter 13

Samandriel recovered slowly. Cas tried to go back, and he made it into the room about once a week. He tried every few days, but sometimes the wounds were purple flowers under Samandriel’s skin, and Castiel saw them and had to run to the bathroom to throw up.

It was pathetic, working so hard to be a doctor and he couldn’t even look at _bruises_. He remembered when he had bruises. He hadn’t had them in a while, his skin tan and unmarred now, but they never faded all the way.

Dean worried about him constantly; it stank up the house and made Sam miserable too. They all had dark circles under their eyes from the hormonal cloud of their apartment - part Sam’s weed, part Dean’s worry and frustration, part Castiel’s anxiety, all brewed together into the perfect aroma for insomnia.

Castiel hated himself in a way he hadn’t since before he met Dean. He could even find a way to blame Sam’s sudden issues with drugs on himself – Sam was perfectly fine until he moved in, and then suddenly the straight-A student turned into a pothead? No, he’d deprived Sam of the little attention Dean had between school and work, and now Castiel screwed up one more person.

Castiel poured himself into his schoolwork. Somehow, he’d never had higher grades. He forgot reality when he studied, so he studied at every opportunity. He stopped talking to people in class and focused on the work, keeping chit-chat to the barest minimum so he could block out whatever wasn’t equations and definitions he needed to memorize.

In retrospect, he should have guessed it would happen when he stopped looking at his phone, despite the growing number in the little red box indicating new messages. Still, he was shocked when he entered the apartment one day after a long afternoon in the chemistry lab to find his mother and brother on the couch with Dean holding owl mugs in his hands toward them.

His mother looked as though she’d aged in the short five or six months since he’d left for school, more grey strands in the blond.

“You don’t call, you don’t write.” Castiel was so busy cataloguing every detail of his mother’s appearance with anxious clarity that he didn’t notice his brother stand and approach him.

Castiel jerked in discomfort as Balthazar enveloped him in a forceful hug, one that crushed him and almost whited out his vision with sudden panic. Luckily, his brother released him fast enough that he could catch his breath before he let it show.

“Thought you might be a goner, Cassie.” Balthazar had a twinkle in his eye as he said it, but his hand shifted to Castiel’s shoulder with a firm grip that told Castiel he meant it. “You can’t do that to us.”

“Castiel,” came his mother’s clipped voice. “Dean is an _alpha_. You didn’t tell us he was an alpha.” Castiel looked away immediately.

“Mother, Dean’s an alpha,” he muttered as calmly as he could manage.

“You two are in a relationship.” She waved a hand between them, her forehead creased. “You sleep in one bed. This house reeks of the two of you.”

“Yes.”

The air was thick with disapproval, even if Castiel couldn’t look his mother in the face.

“Mother,” Castiel started, keeping his eyes down, “I pay for this apartment myself, with the money from my scholarship.”

“We kept you safe for years, don’t you have any sense of loyalty? Any respect?” Her mouth turned down, her eyes intense. “You must move immediately. What if you were to get pregnant before you finished your education? Do you know what would become of you? This alpha here cannot even marry you.”

Castiel’s gut clenched at her words, because of course, she was right. Dean _couldn’t_ marry him.

“I would never let that happen.” Dean’s voice came sure and steady from the other side of the room. Surprisingly, Dean didn’t look upset or angry at Hester’s words; he leaned easily against the table counter, gaze on Castiel. “I would never put him in danger like that.”

Hester seemed to bristle, her face pulling into a tight mask as she turned to address the alpha. Balthazar quietly retreated to an edge of the couch and sat on the armrest.

“I understand you’ve come to think of Castiel as under your claim, but he’s still legally mine.”

“He’s an adult, though.” Dean jaw twitched. “He’s no longer… under your care.”

“He’s an _omega_ adult.” Hester dropped her eyes from Dean’s in a submissive gesture, the scent of Dean’s anger on the air. “I still have legal custody until he marries.”

Dean’s jaw dropped slightly, and he looked slowly to Castiel for confirmation. Castiel nodded and sat down on the couch beside his brother’s warm presence.

“Please, don’t do this.” Dean’s voice wavered as he stood from the counter to face Hester square on. “He’s so much happier here with me than he was in the dorms.”

“Mother, it really is the safest place for me in this town.” Castiel tried to keep the emotion from his voice, tried to keep it rational so that Hester would consider the idea. “I’ve been outed to several alphas at school.”

“And what if he became pregnant?” Hester looked to Dean.

“He won’t.” Dean shook his head. “We’re both on hormone control to keep fertility levels low even during heat, and he’s got an IUD.”

Hester arched her eyebrow at that, still refusing to look Dean in the eye, likely out of a sense of rank; even though she was older, he was the alpha.

“How effective is that, though?”

“One in a hundred.” Dean’s face was solemn, straight, and Castiel was suddenly caught with the urge to laugh at how ridiculous this was, Dean explaining their birth control to his own mother, and on their first time meeting. “Combine that with the hormone magic for both of us and there’s basically no way it could happen.”

Hester didn’t say anything, but Castiel could already smell her acceptance in the air.

“Mother, please. This is the safest place for me,” he repeated. He knew her priorities were still his protection. 

Hester looked between the two of them, troubled.

“And what of mating?” she queried slowly. “How can you guarantee me you won’t take that from him?”

“If I… _take_ that from him… I’m permanently giving a part of myself away too. It’s a one-time deal for everyone, alphas and omegas.”

“Yes.” Hester considered him. She touched her finger to her lips in a thoughtful gesture. “My son obviously trusts you, but I have no reason to share his feelings. Castiel, as long as you send me your medical records indicating that you’re keeping up with your contraceptive plan, I won’t put my effort into disturbing your living arrangement. And you _must_ call me once a week so I know you’re all right.” She stood, her shoulders still tense. She placed the untouched cup of tea down on the coffee table. Balthazar rose with her.

“Castiel. Walk me down to my car.”

Castiel sent a reassuring glance to Dean before following her from the room. Balthazar wrapped his arm around Castiel’s shoulders as they walked, nuzzling at his hair. Castiel relaxed at the warm, beta presence of his brother, squeezing his hand where it was draped over him.

His mother stopped just before they reached the doors to the outside of the building. Spring was fighting its way through, but outside was still cold. She pulled Castiel’s hands into hers, and for a moment Castiel felt young and safe, his mother close and his brother curled around him.

“I can’t stop you from mating with that boy. But you know, you have to _know_ what that would mean, and what you would lose. I strongly caution you against this relationship. Castiel, listen to me - you will never be able to truly love someone you cannot marry. He will own you more than I ever have, more than a beta would, and certainly more than another omega.” She moved her hands from his to tilt his face toward her own. He met her gaze reluctantly. “Please, son. Don’t do this to yourself.”

She kissed his forehead before she released him. Balthazar squeezed him in a goodbye and followed her to their car.

 

* * *

 

 

Samandriel healed into something recognizable within the next few days, and Castiel carved out the top score on his next chemistry test.

Dean liked to fall asleep with his head in Castiel’s lap when Castiel studied late into the night. He curled up with the covers completely twisted in his legs, his pale gold hair messed up into strange patterns as he drooled along Castiel’s bare thigh. Castiel read his textbook by a single lamp in the dark and listened to Dean breathe peacefully, threading gentle fingers through those messy gold spikes. Most nights he eventually passed out into a dreamless sleep, waking to inexplicable anxiety.

The reality is that Castiel has to pick Metatron out of a line up. He has to testify and tell his story to a camera, which will then be played before an unsympathetic jury. Before Metatron. Before Samandriel. Before _Dean_.

Castiel’s not worried about identifying him.  He'd been picking Metatron out of line-ups ever since he left that basement.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel is walking as though through a dream as he follows the prosecuting lawyer down the softly lit corridor to the door. That door, and behind it… Dean hovers close behind him, giving off a protective musk. He squeezes Castiel’s hand before he lets him enter the dark, stuffy room alone.

There’s a window separating them, but Castiel still feels like he should run. His eyes are dead, dark and somehow superior even set against the orange clothes. His hair is mousy, light brown. His lips protrude in a bored pout. He stares past Castiel and Castiel knows he can't see him.

“That’s him,” Castiel says, pointing a numb finger “Number two.”

The prosecuting attorney doesn’t respond. She nods to the accompanying police officer and leads him swiftly from the dark room into the hallway.

“You did well,” she says finally, offering a surprisingly warm smile. “You picked out who Samandriel picked this morning. That’s very good news for us. I’m going to do everything in my power to lock him up.”

Castiel nods tightly, but there was never any way he could forget that horrid face. He just wants a guarantee at this point, not encouragement.

“We’ll get him, baby.” Dean is warm and he smells of sweet pride as Castiel melts into his arms. “We’ll get him.”

 

* * *

 

Telling his story goes much the same, dreamlike and strange. As he talks, though, he starts to feel parts of his body he hasn’t taken account of in a long time. His palms itch, clammy and cold. His lips are dry and cracked. He’s lost weight, plenty of room between his pants and stomach as he slumps in his seat.

When he gets to the end his hands shake, tears budding in his eyes. 

He’s tried to forget it, he’s obsessed over every detail, he’s done everything just to let it go and leave it in the past. Somehow, letting it out of his mind and seeing the sympathy in Samandriel’s lawyer’s eyes, he finally, _finally_ feels real relief.

There’s silence in the room as he finishes, the camera whirring for a good thirty seconds before the prosecuting attorney asks in a careful voice, “Is there anything else you want the jury to know?”

Castiel scratches one itchy palm, wipes a tear from the side of his eye. His hands still shake.

“Don’t let him out. Don’t let him get someone else.”

The attorney nods, her eyes soft.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel heard from Samandriel that Meg visited him, but it still surprised him when the dark-haired beauty greeted him in the hospital cafeteria, dropping down next to him at his table and helping herself to several of his fries.

“Hey, angel. How do you think our buddy’s holding up?”

“He’s still in one piece.” Castiel shrugged, the alpha’s scent strong in the air. “Can’t expect much more from him at this point.”

“I’d like to slit the throat of that Metadouche.” Meg trailed her hand over the edge of his butter knife, making the utensil seem more threatening than Castiel had thought possible. “Watch his blood spill on the floor,” she snarled, her voice somehow still soft enough no one around them looked up.

“Yeah.” Castiel responded, keeping his eyes on her.

“I’m glad he’s in jail. Hope prison’s filled with people like him, ready to use him as their own personal voodoo doll.”

“There’s no guarantees,” Castiel reminded her and himself.

“Don’t worry, Cas. I know a guy. If he gets off, he’ll still be fish food.” She smiled dangerously at him for a moment before stealing another of his fries. Her whole demeanor changed as she switched subjects. “So, I thought I’d invite Sammy to stay with me while he gets back on his feet. Apparently his parents don’t want much to do with him anymore.”

Castiel couldn’t help but feel impressed. “You’d do that? He doesn’t have any money. It’ll be hard for him to find a job.”

Meg just swiped more ketchup on her fry. Her hair was streaked with pink and blue now, and she’d added a second lip ring to her collection of face piercings.

“Eh. He’ll find one, I know lots of guys, you know.” She winked at him and stood. She ruffled a hand through his hair as she left.

“Stay tough, angel.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel couldn’t do much to help Samandriel on his release date, but he showed up anyway to offer a friendly presence if nothing else.

“Cas, thanks for visiting me so much. Kept me busy. I just hope Meg doesn’t make me play as much poker as she’s been threatening.” Samandriel packed up the toothbrush he used for his hospital stay. Castiel knew he didn’t have much anymore, lost most of it when he was evicted. He’d brought another stick of deodorant as a present for him, along with a host of other assorted necessities.

“Poker is an essential life skill,” Meg argued, busy correcting her eyeliner with a tiny compact while she waited for him to finish packing. “Cas, you should come play sometime if you need to learn too.”

“I’m good.” Castiel said hurriedly.

They checked him out with the nurses, then Castiel walked with Samandriel and Meg down to the front lobby. He was about to say goodbye when he saw Dean walk through the automatic doors looking breathless.

“Cas.” Dean grinned as he saw him. “Samandriel, glad to see you up,” he smiled at the other omega too.

“Dean, you have to work. What are you doing here? Is everything ok?” Cas asked, his mind immediately running through all the possibilities.

“Yes, worrywart.” Dean nudged him affectionately before he turned back to Samandriel. “So I told my boss about your situation, and he –“

“Just leave me in the parking lot with no clue where we’re going!” A gruff looking man with oil smeared across his cheek intruded on their circle. He glared at Dean before sweeping his eyes over everyone else gathered there. “I’m guessin’ you’re Cas, it’s a pleasure. Heard pretty much nonstop about you for the last few months.” He extended a hand to Castiel, who took it hesitantly. Callouses scraped against his skin before he pulled his hand back. “And it’s no stretch to say this black and blue one over here’s Samandriel?” He looked Samandriel over appraisingly, his forehead creasing in concern. “Son, you need about a month of straight sleep and then some.”

Samandriel gaped at him for a moment before Dean stepped in.

“This is my boss, Bobby. I told him about your situation, and he offered to help.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Grandpa. I got him,” Meg sneered, already on the defensive.

“This kid needs a lot of tending to, and he needs some peace and quiet from all the noise. I’ve got a ranch out a few miles from town where no one’s gonna come sniffin’ around for him. He can have his own bedroom, and eat and sleep as much as he needs. Basically, you won’t be crammed in a tiny apartment with miss party-all-night here.”

“Hey!” Meg snapped, though Castiel detected a hint of guilt. 

“Meg, Samandriel needs something different than what you can offer.” Dean interrupted her before she could say what she was gearing up to say. “Bobby has a better set-up for him than you do. He can’t live with an alpha right now.”

“I know we're pretty much strangers, but I’m an old mated beta so my scent won’t be botherin’ you any more than I will,” Bobby pointed out.

Samandriel seemed overwhelmed, glancing between Meg and Bobby before landing on Castiel.

“What do you think?”

“Dean, you trust him with an omega?” Castiel asked.

“I’d trust Bobby with my life,” Dean said confidently. “He’s like a dad to me.”

“Sammy, I want to stay the first night with you if you go with him,” Meg said after a moment of silence. “Just to be sure there’s nothing fishy going on.”

  
“I can believe in someone Dean and Cas think of so highly,” Samandriel assured her while resting a hand along her arm. “Though, it would be nice if you came along for a night,” he added, quieter.

 

* * *

 

 

When Castiel lied on the couch that night, he felt almost free. The earth tones of their living room grounded him and offered him what he tentatively wanted to name a sense of peace. Dean puttered around in the kitchen, whipping up dinner as a special treat for him on such a stressful day. Sam was even home and not off avoiding his brother. Castiel even believed he was in his room doing homework for once. Luckily, his tests were over for the moment.

The smells and sounds of Dean’s cooking echoed into the living room. Dean muttered to himself occasionally, a “oh, yeah” and “that’s good” that cracked a smile on Castiel’s lips. He found himself drifting off to sleep when he closed his eyes. 

He slept well.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last. It's taken me forever to wrap this story up so I apologize, but I am determined to finish it.


	14. Chapter 14

Gabe showed up at Cas's house Saturday night, no invitation. He poured them both a glass of… something, and announced it had been far too long since they last saw each other.

“Balthazar came to see me, told me why they were in town.” Gabe eyed him more intensely than usual, his mouth turned down. “I would be pissed that you didn’t mention any of this to me if I wasn’t so fucking worried about you. Haven’t heard from you in weeks. I had to text Dean to make sure you were still, you know, kicking.”

“He’s in jail, and hopefully soon prison,” Cas answered, unable to say anything else about the matter.

“You having a freak out?” Gabe asked him, his mouth quirking. He poured him more... whatever he’d brought him. It was fruity and sweet, but there was definitely a bit of a kick to it.

Cas studied the floor for a moment, resisting the urge to lie. Gabe would know if he was lying because he’d been around when Metatron first took him. He’d seen the aftermath, he knew him back when Cas was much worse.

“I was,” Cas said finally. The decision for brutal honestly was quick and complete. “It was too much, the fear. Thought it might even be better to just end it and be done.”

Gabriel’s breathed in sharply, but waited for him to continue.

“Dean told me I had to get angry. I tried that, but really, I couldn’t do anything about him being here so that was no use. Then they caught him, and now… I went to go see him in the prison. He looks the same.” Castiel grimaced, sipping more of the weird liquid. It was pale yellow with a rose tint. “Bored with the world, looking to screw with people’s lives. But I was glad to see him in that dumb orange jumpsuit. And when I was telling them about what happened, I thought it would be awful. It wasn’t. It just… I felt calm. For the first time in a long time, I felt calm – like I could breathe, like my brain wasn’t going a million miles. And then I fell asleep, and I didn’t wake up unbearably anxious.”

“Good.” Gabe nodded, clearing his throat. “That’s really good, Cassy. I’m proud of you.” He bumped him on the shoulder in a very brother-like gesture. “Bet that ice queen of a mother didn’t help anything by showing up.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“She took one whiff of our house and knew Dean and I were involved. Now I’ve got to send her proof that I’m keeping up my birth control, but at least I get to stay with Dean.”

“When’s the trial?”

“This weekend.”

“What happens if he gets out?” Gabe asked, very still.

Castiel had run through the possibility many times in his head. When it came down to it, it was him or Metatron on this Earth. Metatron had made that clear when he came after him the second time, tracked him down in his new life.

He’d have to kill him if he wanted to live.

“I don’t know,” he said instead.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel really did have plans to stay home and anxiously bury under covers with Dean, maybe desperately read a book, maybe stare at the wall and do absolutely nothing the day of Metatron’s trial. He’d made Dean promise he wouldn’t try to distract him, because it would be impossible and Cas would just end up having some sort of breakdown – he was honest enough with himself now to admit when he needed to just be his anxious, irritable self. He didn’t want Dean to go far, for more reasons than one, not the least of which was that Dean kept him calm unlike anything else. Unfortunately, he didn’t get everyone else to promise any of those things.

Balthazar and his mother first showed up to insist he go to breakfast with them before they went themselves to watch the trial. An hour later Jo dragged both Dean and him out for lunch. He couldn’t answer a single question coherently, and Dean was so tense he wasn’t much better, but Jo kept the conversation going well enough for both of them. Gabe appeared like clockwork after that, bringing four different kinds of game systems and too many bad jokes.

They were halfway done with an old-school Mario Kart game when they heard the thump at the door. Gabe tensed. Dean tensed. Cas froze.

Dean rose swiftly, sure footed all the way to the door. He yanked it open, his shoulders a tight line.

Sam had been missing all morning, though he’d hugged Cas the night before and assured him he and Dean would protect him no matter the outcome. Cas was completely caught off guard by the gaunt, white face of the gangly teenager at the door.

“Dean.” He gasped, panting hard as though he’d been running. “I fucked up.” Strung between his arms was the body of what Cas guessed was an adolescent boy. He’d never seen him before.

“Sam, what the hell?” Dean choked, jumping from the couch and grabbing at his brother, craning his head to look at the face of the boy in his arms. Sam hung his head, squeezed his eyes. Castiel’s heart pounded in his head and his mind spun.

“Who is this? Are you high? You’re fucking high. What the fuck did you take?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Help me get him to the couch. I didn’t mean to do it, I swear.” He spoke fast, only breaking off when Dean’s voice rose over his.

“Who the hell is this?” Dean demanded, even though he complied with his brother’s request without hesitation, prying the body from Sam’s arms and carrying it the rest of the way for him. Sam collapsed against the doorframe, leaning heavily on the wood. He panted there, and Cas could see what Dean was asking about – his pupils were wide, his cheeks reddened.

“Ruby,” Sam breathed, and Dean spun to face him, fury rising to his expression. “I’m done with her. Forever. I’ll never see her again,” Sam spoke quickly, too quickly for Castiel’s comfort. Sam was normally slow and thoughtful. “She took me… she said she wanted to show me a good time. She gave me a line of coke and took me to this brothel, just outside of town. I didn’t know what it was until I got there, and the smell… they were all omegas. Then. Then I saw him.” Sam nodded at the body on the couch, where Gabe and Cas had moved away and made room for the boy.

“Who?” Dean’s voice was quiet, trembling with rage.

“I didn’t recognize him at first either, with the makeup and the piercings. And those clothes.” Sam shook his head. “It’s Adam, Dean. That’s our brother.”

Dean stared at Sam for another beat before examining the boy on the couch more thoroughly. Dean turned his face carefully and looked closely before his gaze continued down along his body – tight jeans and a glittery crop top. Anyone would peg him as a hooker with those clothes.

“Do we need to take him to the emergency room?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Sam’s words seemed to catch in his throat. He swallowed before he continued, “I knocked him out.”

“What?” Dean turned sharply on him. Gabe uttered the same exclamation from next to Cas.

“Why would you do that?”

“He wouldn’t come. He said he was fine there, to forget about him. I couldn’t do that so I. I clocked him.”

“You punched him,” Dean repeated, horrified.

“Yeah.” Sam swallowed again. He gestured wildly at Adam, fighting for words. “He just. I couldn’t leave him there! He was drugged up and there was this disgusting guy trying to buy him. I bought him, and then I- I got a taxi, and when he refused to come with me, I panicked and just clocked him.”

“Hope you tipped that taxi driver like a king, because otherwise the police could come busting in after you before long,” Gabe pointed out.

“I did. Told him he was my brother who ran away from home and he said he understood. Honestly, he didn’t seem to care all that much as long as I paid him.”

“Dean, this is your brother?” Cas finally found his voice. “How did I go so long never meeting him or hearing his name?”

Dean was somehow laughing, massaging his eyes like he was exhausted.

“You fucking… you punched him,” he repeated. “I can’t believe this is our life.” He laughed again.

“Dean, this isn’t funny,” Sam protested, beyond indignant. “Why are you laughing?”

“I can’t even believe this. Any of it.” Dean sank to his knees next to Adam, inspecting him closer. “He’s really ok? He’s just knocked out?”

“Assuming I didn’t kill him with a punch.”

“No. Your twiggy arms couldn’t do that much damage.” Dean put his palm to Adam’s mouth and waited a moment, eyes on Adam’s chest. “He’s breathing. He’ll have a mother of a headache when he wakes up, but he’ll be fine.”

Dean was laughing again. Gabe shot Cas a wild-eyed look that undoubtedly telepathically translated to “shit, your boyfriend’s gone wacko.”

“Damn, it’s good to see him again. We lost him over a year ago. Couldn’t find him anywhere after his mom passed away, just disappeared. But he’s in one piece from the looks of it. I had no idea he was an omega, but thinking back on it, it makes total sense.”

“You have different mothers?”

Dean nodded.

“Dad and his mom were never even really a thing. He just… kind of just knocked her up, right after my mom passed away and dad was a complete mess. She insisted on raising Adam on her own. We only saw each other a few times. Dad mostly went to visit him alone. Jesus, he's only... fourteen? Maybe fifteen.”

Dean turned to Sam again, more solemn.

“You mean it when you say you’re done with her?”

“Yes.” Sam nodded “I can’t believe she would take me to a place like that. It was awful.”

“And the drugs?” Dean’s Adam’s apple bobbed and Cas could tell he was trying his best to restrain himself and keep calm. “Are you going to stop?”

Sam faltered, but he nodded.

“I can’t… I don’t want to end up like this. Like her. I don’t want to be that.”

“Can you stop?”

Sam dropped his eyes.

“I think so. I’m not sure.”

“Ok. Tell me what you need.” Dean nodded. Sam smiled slightly. It seemed, oddly, like the first relaxed moment between the brothers in too long. Then Dean looked back to Adam and added, “And you’re grounded for a week.”

A flicker of rebellion crossed Sam’s face before it was gone.

“A week?” Cas was outraged. Sure, he was glad they were making up and all, but still… “For doing coke and going to an omega brothel?” he sputtered.

“It would be longer, but apparently both of those were punishment enough. Look at him. Sam, as long as you do what you say you’re going to do, I don’t need to punish you more than you’ve experienced today.”

“Just let me know when he wakes up, and when you get the verdict.” Sam retreated to his room, probably to escape the smell of Dean’s still-lingering fury.

“This whole house is just batshit, isn’t it Cassy?” Gabe gaped at him.

 

* * *

 

 

It was late at night when Dean finally got the text.

 _Mistrial declared. Lawyers botched it. Police fumbled the evidence_ , Balthazar texted. Dean heard a sound like waves rushing in his ears and realized it was his blood pumping, spiked with rage and fear.

Dean’s first thought was that Cas would smell it and he had to get out before that happened. He glanced at his omega; Cas was there on the couch, curled up, his chin resting on his forearms while he watched old re-runs of Scooby Doo. His phone was still dark as it rested on the table – Balthazar hadn’t texted him yet.

Dean grabbed the trash from the kitchen and headed toward the door, walking swiftly. He was out of the apartment as fast as possible, and only then did he let his feelings really crash over him.

_Don’t text Cas yet. I have to go out. He needs me there when he hears._

_Wasn’t going to. I’ll let you tell him._

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been prepared for this, but he hadn’t really believed it would happen, that the world was that cruel; that someone as evil as Metatron could get off with the evidence stacked against him.

Dean headed swiftly down the stairs, the trash slung over his shoulder. He dialed Sam’s number.

“Hey. Will you hang out with Cas for a few minutes? I’ve got to run an errand.”

“Yeah, he in the living room? How long will you be gone?”

Dean let a shaky breath go.

“Fifteen minutes?”

“You ok?”

“Fine.”

Dean dumped the trash and rushed to his car, pulling out the phonebook he’d placed in his passenger seat the night before. He ran down the list of hotels, a finger on each name so he wouldn’t lose track as he went.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What do you mean, they found him dead’?” Castiel’s worried eyes darted between Dean’s, searching. “Dean, what did you do?”

“It wasn’t me,” Dean rushed out. “I swear to you Cas, I didn’t do it. It was natural causes, a freak accident. Choked on a piece of chicken.”

“Chicken,” Cas repeated blandly, his mouth hanging open. “The night of his acquittal. And he chokes. On chicken.”

“Should ‘a gone with the beef,” Dean joked weakly.

“Then where were you?”

“Cas, how the fuck would I kill someone and make it look like he choked on chicken?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I have no goddamn idea what – “ Cas broke off, his whole body vibrating with tension. “You swear to me you didn’t do it? You aren’t going to get arrested?” Cas's beautiful eyes bore into him, piercing his heart. Dean gently took his face in his hands and kissed his cheek, his forehead. He rubbed their cheeks, scent marking.

“I swear to you. I won’t leave you so easily.”

Cas breathed out softly, relaxing into Dean’s hands. They stood there together for a few moments, and Dean felt peaceful. Cas's scent drifted off to something more pleasant with each passing moment. It smelled like he was blooming in the air.

“He’s really gone.” It was more a question, breathed with a tinge of relief from Cas.

“He’s gone,” Dean assured him. “You can sleep now.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean sat with Cas until he fell asleep, and then he retreated to the living room to watch cartoons and wait for Adam to wake up. So much had happened today - too much. Too much for one day.

Adam finally woke after another hour. Dean checked his watch and saw it was ten at night. He’d been out for easily four hours. Adam blinked, groggy, and put a hand to his head. Dean had been icing it for him while he was asleep, alternating a few minutes on and off.

“The fuck,” Adam muttered. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Do you remember me?” Dean asked him. He’d run over several possibilities in his head, and this seemed like the best way to approach it.

Adam squinted at him.

"Sorry about the headache, I think Sam just panicked. He normally wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Ugh. I'm used to it," Adam grimaced. He closed his eyes briefly in pain before he looked at Dean again. “Dean.” He blinked, recognition flickering through his features. “Where the hell am I?”

“My house.”

“I need to get back.”

“No you don’t,” Dean said steadily.

Adam bristled, and his expression reminded Dean of angsty teen Sam.

“Like hell. You don’t know. They’ll have my ass for staying out this long.” He pointed at his head. "This? It's nothing."

“Adam, you don’t have to go back there anymore. Sam and I will take care of you and give you a place to live, food to eat.” Dean carefully placed his hand over the omega’s shoulder. “We’ve been looking for you since your mom passed, man. What happened to you?”

Adam rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling loudly.

“I’ve got to get back. I’m losing money just by… I can’t.”

“You don’t need to do that anymore,” Dean repeated. “We’ll take care of you.”

“Why didn’t you find me sooner, then?” Adam snapped, and now that Dean could see his face he saw he was angry. Why were omegas always yelling at him? Dean really had a knack for pissing them off.

“Our families were never close. When Dad died we totally lost touch. By the time we heard about your mom it was months after she’d passed. I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. Sam and I tried. We drove down there, looked everywhere for you.”

“I came up here looking for you,” Adam said softly, his eyes still troubled. “I looked you up. But I thought you might… I’m not… I’m an omega,” his voice shook as he admitted it. “I’m… I’m disgusting, really. The things I’ve done. I’m dirty, Dean.” Adam shook his head, his lower lip trembling though the rest of his expression fought to stay neutral. “Well, obviously you can see: I’m a whore now.”

“I know you didn’t have a choice in that,” Dean rushed to assure him. “And I don’t care what you are, what you’ve done. You’re my brother. And you’re not dirty, that’s some bullshit if I ever heard it.”

Adam bit his lower lip, lowered his eyes.

“You know I’m an omega, and you still want me around? Dean, honestly I’d rather be on the streets than sleep with my brothers.”

“Ugh. No, man.” Dean pulled his hand back to draw a clear boundary. “I know what you are, and that’s cool with me and Sam, but not for that reason. My boyfriend’s an omega. I… I’ve learned a lot from him about what that means, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you’ve been on your own all this time. You’re safe now, here with Sam and me, and we’re not going to ask you for anything. You’re family. Let us honor that. We’ve got a spare bedroom and everything. Cas has stuff in there right now, but you can sleep there tonight.”

“Cas?” Adam seemed to still be soaking up Dean’s talk, his attitude changing slowly.

“That’s my boyfriend.”

“The omega?” Adam clarified, still wary.

“Yup,” Dean said, almost cheerfully. “He lives here too.”

“Ok,” Adam said slowly. “Ok.”

“So you’ll stay here tonight? Give it a shot?” Dean asked, trying his best to be calming and soothing. Adam still looked spooked.

“I guess.”

“We can talk more in the morning, with Sam and Cas there so you can ask whatever questions you need. Right now, you look like you could use some sleep.”

Adam mumbled something before he followed Dean into Cas's old bedroom. The bed was still made because Cas was a freak who organized literally everything so it was all set for Adam to sleep in. Adam looked around quietly, rubbing his arms.

“There’s a change of clothes in that wardrobe. Cas's sleeping clothes should fit you ok.”

“Ok.” Adam nodded again.

“It’s nice to see you.” Dean meant it. “I really am sorry we didn’t find you sooner.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Compared to how cold yesterday had been, it was beautiful out. Warm, sunny, cloudless; clear as far as the eye could see, rays of sunshine alighting on the windows of the buildings in the distance and glittering like gems.

Castiel sat with his legs dangling over the side of the roof, looking out. All he needed was a light jacket in the spring weather.

“I really hate this place now.”

Dean’s voice came from over his shoulder. Cas smiled, mostly because his heart was light and even Dean’s disapproval couldn’t change that.

“I’m sorry I ruined it for you,” Cas replied. Dean came next to him and squatted. He slung his legs over the edge and lowered himself to a sitting position, propping his chin along the railing in a way that mimicked how Cas sat.

“But you still like it,” Dean noted.

“I came up here that day because I feel peaceful here. It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Dean agreed. They lapsed into a soothing silence as Dean took in the view Cas had spent the morning soaking up. “You just missed Jody. She came by to apologize. Apparently one of her officers really fucked up the evidence for the trial. But mostly it was the dumbass lawyers who screwed us over.”

“I like Jody,” Cas commented lightly. “I think she did everything she could to help me, it just wasn’t enough.”

“My gut tells me the same thing.”

Cas took a deep breath. The air tasted as amazing as it smelled.

“Dean, you must have killed him. It’s ok to tell me. I won’t freak out or anything. I understand why you did what you did, and I don’t think any differently of you. I’m grateful, honestly. I never would have wanted you to do that for me, but now that it’s done I’m very grateful.”

Dean edged his hand onto Cas’s, rubbing over Cas's knuckles as he gripped the bars to keep from falling over the edge.

“I promise you, Cas,” his voice was so unflustered, so poised. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Just tell me. Where did you disappear to?” Cas insisted, gazing down at his feet dangling in mid air, stories above the street.

“I am telling you- it’s your turn now to believe me.”

“It’s too much to believe, Dean.” Cas exhaled shakily.

“We’re going to be ok now, Cas. I promise you – I’m not going to prison because I didn’t commit any crime. Ok?”

Cas turned to look at Dean. For some reason, some unfathomable reason, he trusted those serene, grassy eyes. His analytical, science mind told him it was too fantastic a coincidence; there was time missing on Saturday that fit the time of death for Metatron. He knew Dean would take out any threat to Cas's safety without a thought, and Metatron certainly qualified as a threat.

Still, Cas believed him when he asked him to believe. Dean had never lied to him before. And if this was the one lie Dean chose to tell him, Cas could let himself believe it.

“I love you,” Cas leaned closer, pressing their foreheads together. The light wind up on the roof washed most smells away, but Cas could catch a whiff of Dean’s contentment in the air. “I love you more than I can bear.”

“I love you,” Dean whispered back.

 

* * *

 

 

_Motel Eight on North fiftieth street had a man under the name Metatron who reserved one night with them, room 116. Dean’s hand shook on the gun hidden under his jacket as he wandered down the blue and green hall. Weird squiggles of red popped out of the carpeting, and Dean found himself wondering why every hotel he’d ever stayed in had the most bizarre carpet patterns._

_110…112…_

_Was that a painting of a clown bear? The fuck?_

_114…_

_The door in front of him opened, and Dean froze. Metatron had never seen him, but Dean wouldn’t put it past him to recognize the alpha of the omega he’d been terrorizing. Dean’s finger squeezed on the trigger and he had a spasmic thought of no this isn’t where it’s supposed to happen, out in the open like this, everyone will see, but then the man turned around and to Dean’s great relief he didn’t look remotely like face he’d seen in the paper a few days ago._

_“Dean,” Balthazar said, the hint of a British accent from his long stay in England coming through in Dean’s name. He didn’t seem nearly as surprised by Dean as Dean was by him._

_“What…” Dean sputtered, looking between him and the room._

_“I came to interview the man who kidnapped and tortured my little brother, but unfortunately…” Balthazar stepped back, and his movement pulled Dean forward, as if by invisible strings, until he could look in the open door._

_Inside was a deeper shade of blue, smatterings of green along the walls. A large bed was made up, a partially unpacked bag off to the side. A man sat slumped over in a chair by the makeshift kitchen. His eyes were slightly open, though his posture suggested he was sleeping. In front of him was a plate of half-finished food. The longer Dean looked the more sure he became._

_“He’s dead,” Dean concluded calmly. His hand dropped off the trigger inside his coat._

_“Must have eaten something that disagreed with him. A lot,” Balthazar replied softly._

_Dean turned to watch Balthazar, but the tall man was all tranquil confidence. He gazed at Metatron without any hint of emotion in his face. Balthazar met Dean’s eyes after a moment._

_“I think your business is done here,” Balthazar said evenly. “And a gun isn’t very elegant, Dean. That was stupid. You can’t take care of Cas if you’re rotting in prison for decades. There will be other Metatron’s you need to help defend him from.”_

_“How?” Dean asked, a range of confusing feelings battling inside him. “How did you do it?”_

_Balthazar’s mouth quirked into something of a smile for a brief moment. He carefully closed the door to the room and started walking down the hallway. Dean noticed for the first time that he was wearing gloves. It was cold outside, though, so he hadn’t thought anything of it before. No one else would, either._

_“I’m a museum curator. Aside from all the parties I get to crash, which is why I took the job in the first place, I know many secrets of the world, many long forgotten secrets. Though to be quite honest, Dean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Looks to me that he… choked on his food.”_

_“Could you be implicated?” Dean asked, his mind racing as he followed Balthazar down the hallway._

_“No.” Balthazar shook his head. “Hypothetically, there’s quite a few different kinds of poisons that won’t show up in an autopsy if administered correctly.”_

_Dean swallowed hard at the admission._

_“How’d you get him to let you in? Eat that food?”_

_“I sat in the back for the trial. I think he recognized me but didn’t know me. I just told him I was a reporter, trying to get his side of the story so I could write an article proclaiming his innocence. Stroked his ego a bit, and of course he couldn’t resist that. Asked if he wanted to share the meal I’d brought along while we spoke… piece of cake, really.” Balthazar shrugged._

_Dean reeled. He’d only briefly spoken to Cas's brother when he came to visit with his mother, and at the time he’d taken him as an easy-going, fun-loving kind of guy, not one who plotted murder methodically and brilliantly. But then again, he’d never imagined he’d find himself prepared to a shoot another person in a hotel room. Life was funny like that. No, shitty. Life was horrifically shitty like that._

_“You found him quickly, I’ll give that to you. I only texted you when I arrived here.”_

_“I got plenty of experience trying to find my dad in these dumps.” Dean was in such a state of shock he let slip that piece of information without a thought. Usually he was guarded about that, paranoid people would somehow guess how bad his father’s alcoholism became if he let them know too much about the bad parts of his childhood. At the moment, however, Dean couldn’t think beyond the dead body they’d left in that room._

_Dean mindlessly followed Balthazar all the way out to the parking lot, still trying to process what was going on._

_Balthazar stopped at his car, pulling out his phone._

_“He said he had an appointment with someone at eight, so he could only talk for a moment. It’s twenty to eight now. They can come, discover the body, and call the authorities, who will call us. Then we can tell Cas in a way that will still let him sleep tonight.”_

_“About the trial?”_

_“About the trial. About this. We can’t tell him until after the authorities tell us.” Balthazar winked at him. “Remember, we know nothing.”_

_“Right,” Dean agreed numbly. Balthazar had this planned down to the smallest detail. All Dean had was his rage and a gun he, thank god, still had not used._

_“You need to get back to Cas.” Balthazar studied Dean. “How long have you been gone?”_

_Dean checked his watch._

_“About fifteen minutes.”_

_“Go. I’ll call you when they call me. Be ready.”_

_Dean didn’t respond. He nodded briefly._

_“Dean,” Balthazar stopped him as he turned to leave. Dean paused at the soft word. “This is a victory. Celebrate it. Castiel lives in a war, and not every battle will be. You ok with that?”_

_He thought of his grumpy, bossy omega at home, the one who barked at him to do his homework, who worked with a fervor and intensity he’d never witnessed in another human being before. The one who always looked after and cooked for Sam when Dean was busy at work. The way he curled up into him in the morning, smelling like heaven itself. His laugh, the downward turn of his blue eyes. The acrid scent of his anxiety in the air. Dean’s heart was filled with ice and his head heavy as he nodded again._

_“He would never have been safe if you didn’t do this, Balthazar.”_

_“I know,” Balthazar agreed softly._

 


	15. Epilogue

“So your boyfriend’s brother’s an omega hooker.”

“Ex.”

“X what?”

“Ex-hooker. He lives with us now.”

“Oh my _god_. Whatever.”

“He was only a hooker because he couldn’t do anything else. He was orphaned and omega. He needed money to get to Dean and Sam, he just got lost along the way. By the time he got in the same city, he was so far gone he didn’t think Dean or Sam would want him even if he found them.” Cas adjusted the phone against his ear. He could hear crickets chirping on the other line and remembered suddenly that it was night where Gabe was, halfway across the world in England. He was supposed to be studying business or… something for the summer semester, but Cas was pretty sure he was just there to hook up with girls with cute accents.

“Sam actually reported that prostitute ring… thing?”

“Yeah. There was a big bust. I heard that asshole Crowley’s stuck in jail right now for sex trafficking, awaiting trial.”

“Sam could take some serious heat for that.”

“You know, I don’t think they’ll be bothering us.” Cas smirked under his breath. Dean had seen Crowley around campus, and from Dean’s descriptions of their interactions Cas was pretty sure he’d scared the shit out of the little weasel.

“And Sam’s in Stanford?”

“No, he was _accepted_ there. He hasn’t responded yet. A perfect score on the SAT means a lot of good things for him.”

“What do you mean he hasn’t responded yet? What, he’s going to turn down Stanford?”

“Maybe. Kid’s smart. Stanford offered him a full ride, but so did Princeton. They’re fighting over him.” Cas couldn't keep how proud he was of Sam from his voice.

“You gotta be kidding me. Stanford’s way better than Princeton.”

“How do you know?”

“Everyone knows. That’s just how famous things go.”

“Ok, sure. He’ll probably go. He wants to study pre-law. He might even minor in gender and minority studies. I think omega laws really raise his hackles. He goes off on these long rants about it sometimes that I barely even understand.”

“Cas. That’s awesome. So, seriously, you live with a hooker.”

“Ex-hooker.”

“Whatever. What’s that even like?”

“He spends most of his time out at Bobby’s, honestly. He and Samandriel get along crazy well. I think… I’m not really sure, but they might be dating? Samandriels older than Adam by a few years, but they have so much in common.”

“The omega boys are dating each other? Cute.”

“Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Geez, don’t get all low and rumbly. I’m just saying: it’s cute.”

“…”

“Really, Cas, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Gabe, you can be a real assbutt sometimes.”

“Assbutt?”

“You know.”

“Sure, Cas. Speaking of omega law… did you hear about that thing?”

Cas swallowed down the instant knot in his throat before he responded.

“You mean the repeal on the ban of alpha-omega marriages?”

“Yeah, that thing. You and Dean gonna go get hitched now that you can?”

“You assume that now that Dean and I can legally get married, we will.”

“Sure. You guys are great together. I’m all for it. Just wait until I get back in town before you throw a big party, because there ain’t no party without me.”

“Gabe, we’re too young for that. We’re not done with school, not even close. It’s impractical, not to mention illogical.”

“Blah blah blah. You’re going to sit there and tell me that if that dude asked you to marry him you would turn him down because it’s _illogical_?”

“… I have to go.”

“Sure you do.”

“No, really. I have… there’s cooking. And things in the oven. I think that was the timer.”

“Alright. It’s late here, anyway. What time is it there?”

“Breakfast.”

“Well, have a good breakfast.”

“Yeah, have a good night.”

“I’m off to a pub with some ‘mates’. Hopefully catch me some ‘birds’ there, if you get my drift.”

“Uh. You going to see Balthazar sometime soon?”

“Cas, I’ve told you a million times that we live in different parts of the country. But, yes. I’m taking the train to see him next week. He promised me a wild night.”

“I’m sure. Tell him to call me when you see him.”

“Will do, chief. Signing off.”

“See you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was much more relaxed over the summer, though he had taken up a second job to help him save for the school semester. It kept him busy. Adam liked to spend his days at Bobby’s ranch, and most nights, too. Sam was off at some conference for Amnesty club. It was almost like Dean and him had their own space in the little apartment.

That translated easily into loud, acrobatic sex.

It was after one of these exhausting, satiating sessions that Dean decided to drop the bomb.

“So it’s ‘illogical’?” he asked as they lay panting side by side, sheets thrown to the floor, their heads facing toward the foot of the bed. Cas’s legs were still tangled up in Dean’s, his arm trapped under Dean’s head.

“What’s illogical?” Cas was still trying to catch his breath.

“The idea of us gettin’ hitched,” Dean said to the ceiling.

Cas flushed immediately, staring at Dean as he tried to connect the dots Dean made.

“You set me up with Gabe.”

“Hey.” Dean shrugged. “Good thing I did. I had a ring and everything. That would've been one hell of a let down.”

“Dean.” Cas’s voice barely squeaked past his vocal chords. “That was just… that was just what I said to Gabe. He caught me off guard. I was making cinnamon rolls,” Cas garbled, as though that somehow explained his thoughts perfectly.

Dean laughed.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think you’re capable of lying on the spot, Cas. You meant it. This isn’t the right time for you.” Dean was still speaking to the ceiling, but his mouth was curved in a gentle smile. Cas hadn’t been so nervous in a long time.

“You got me a ring?” Cas whispered, awe blossoming in his chest.

“Yup.” Dean turned on his side to face him, still propped against Cas’s arm. “Well, I didn’t so much buy it as inherit it from my mother. But I got a box for the ring so I could propose all proper-like.”

“You did?” Cas asked stupidly, still unable to process what Dean was saying.

“Yeah.” Dean looked like he wanted to make fun of Cas’s slow responses, but he didn’t. He was taking this all too well. “But then I heard it would be ‘illogical’.”

“Fuck. Dean,” Cas sputtered, blushing again. “I didn’t… damn it. You should have asked me directly instead of sneaking around like that!”

“Ok, say I had asked you directly.” Dean arched an eyebrow at him. “How exactly would the response have differed?”

Cas choked on nothing, his thoughts all scrambled. Talk about put on the spot. He mouthed like a fish for a few seconds before he finally managed to collect himself.

“Dean, it’s such a beautiful idea, proposing to me. And obviously you know I’ve wanted to mate with you for a while now.”

“I know.” Dean nodded. “For me, that has to come after marriage, though.”

“But I needed… it seems like we’re both in such vulnerable parts of our life. We’re only sophomores in college. We’ve been through a lot, but we’re stlll young. You could change. I could change. Our brains aren’t even fully formed until twenty five, you know.”

“Oh great, science talk,” Dean teased lightly. “You know how much I love that.”

“I’m serious. Studies show that after twenty five you have a much higher chance of picking a mate - “

“Cas. I really can’t listen to that.” Dean exhaled briefly. “This last year has been so hard, but it’s also been the best year of my life. I’m a simple guy. And I love you. It's not possible for me to find someone I feel more strongly for.”

“But there’s also practical questions to ask. Weddings are expensive. We’re both students without strong financial support from adults.”

“But we don’t need a big party to get married. We could celebrate later when we have money.”

It was Cas’s time to sigh.

“Dean, I love you too. And of course I want to marry you. It’s just not the right time.”

Dean perked up at that, though, and snuggled closer.

“Did you say, ‘of course I want to marry you’?”

“Uh.”

“So you do want to marry me eventually, just not… right now?”

Cas grabbed his face with one hand out of frustration.

“How could you think I don’t want to marry you?”

“You called it ‘illogical’,” Dean reminded him through slightly squished lips.

“Just the timing. Not the person.”

“Ah. I see. So.” Dean leaned over Cas’s body, trapping him somewhat against the bed, though Cas hardly minded. Dean’s skin was warm, smooth, hard and oh so pleasant against his own. When Dean returned to his former position, he was holding a ring box in one hand. No longer teasing, his expression was nervous -- very nervous.

“So… would now in bed be a totally inappropriate scenario to ask this?”

Cas worked to find words, but this time he was left completely mute.

Dean waited. Cas still couldn’t speak several moments, later, though, so Dean plowed ahead.

“Cas…” He opened the box. Inside was a beautiful silver ring with a sapphire jewel set in the middle. Two small diamonds framed it on either side, sort of off-kilter from one another. “Will you one day in the future - and maybe not in the near future but someday - marry me?”

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, all! Some of you for over a year. It's been a long journey, glad to finally get some closure on this fic (as I'm sure you are too if you're reading this). Big thank you to my various betas I named throughout this process! This would have ended a totally different way if not for several different suggestions. I actually had most of it written, and the reason it took so long to finish is because I scrapped the ending I'd written because it was too graphic/awful. I opted for a happier ending this time. Especially since the ending was so heavily revised, thoughts and comments are appreciated. Again, big thank you to my readers for sticking with me!


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